


Reunion of THS

by StormiePassions



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School Reunion, Alternate Universe - Human, Artist Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a genius, Big brother Crowley, Bullying, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, First Time, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Memories, Music as Communication, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse, Violence, shit parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25676404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormiePassions/pseuds/StormiePassions
Summary: The 20th High school reunion of Tadfield High School and both Anthony Crowley and Ezira Fell really do not want to be back in the village of Tadfield for their own reasons... But... They both want to see if the other remembers them. Memories shared and feelings are felt. Will they have their chance that they wanted so long ago?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 162
Kudos: 138
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Why the F am I here???

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone!!!! Here is my second Good Omens fic! 
> 
> I hope you all like it! It is a WIP but I promise you, it feels like it is flowing out of my pores! each chapter will feature a song, most likely around the 1999/2000/2001 time period and also rather Emo LOL.
> 
> XOXOX
> 
> This is not beta'ed so all mistakes are mine :)

“What the entire fuck am I doing back here?” Crowley asks himself as he sees the welcome sign from the road entering Tadfield Village. Driving his Bentley into the sleepy village, he again was trying to talk himself into turning right around and head back to Portland; back to his condo on the rocky coast of New England, back to his life of creating the universe… well, in game form. Driving like the speed demon he is, he finds the inn he had booked for this visit, he didn’t take the time or effort to call his ‘rents to let them know he was back in town. After how they kicked him out for being himself, he didn’t think that it would be worth it to let them know. He did, however, shoot his sibling that he made it to the village; Beez is going to meet him there once he got settled in with his favorite Thai dish from his favorite restaurant. 

Walking into the inn with glasses on and his duffle slung over his shoulder and computer bag in hand, he saunters to the front desk. “Good evening, sir. Checking in?” the young 20 something year old asks him not looking up from her cell. She is playing the prequel of Armageddon, Creation mobile version, he had to fight to get that project to fly, even more so when he pushed to not have in app purchases. After the outrageous success of Armageddon, he had the developers and company eating out of his hand. 

“Yeah, Anthony Crowley, that’s me. Checking in.”

She, unaware of who he was to the game she was playing, says, “that’s great” putting down her phone, “let’s see. Okay, we have the penthouse set for you for the week, the Wi-Fi password is on the desk and it’s the top tier service for the best speed. Also, we have a restaurant down here around the corner and room service available until 2am.” She’s thinking rather hard, Crowley swears he can see smoke coming from her ears. “Our swimming pool is open until 11pm and opens in the morning at 7. I think that’s it.” Her hand is inching to her phone again. 

“Yeah, I need my card key and room number.” Crowley says impatiently. Seriously? Could she be thicker?

“OH! Of course, Mr. Crowley.” She sets the two cards up for the room. “The room number is 317. Here is an extra card. Enjoy your stay.” Then she picks up her phone, opens the game and continues to play as if Crowley isn’t still standing in front of her. 

He rolls his eyes, throwing his duffle again over his shoulder and computer bag in the opposite hand walks to the elevator and head to the third floor. Finally making it to his suite, he puts his duffle on the dresser and places his computer bag on the desk. Peeking in the bathroom, the whole reason for the penthouse is the bathtub. It’s big enough to fit four grown adults and jets throughout. Naturally, there’s a shower that, again, can fit four adults with multiple shower heads. Satisfied with his suite, he throws himself on the king size bed and stretches out his tight muscles. Groaning, he rubs his face pushing his glasses up and asks out loud into the empty suite, “What the ENTIRE FUCK am I doing back here?” 

He stands up from the bed and walks to his computer bag. He takes out his MacBook Pro, iPad and pencil, all the chargers for them and his iPhone and sets his workstation up. He doesn’t plan to actually socialize more than necessary here but does plan to see Beez and go to this stupid high school reunion. It’s very possible that his Angel doesn’t even remember him anyways, this is a waste of time and money. But his mind pushes back, what if he does remember you? What if he wants to reconnect? what if he wants to know you? He growls at his own mind, slightly worried he may be going a tad crazy and goes to text Beez to come on over and gives his Thai order and room number. He throws his phone on the bed and moving to look out the window from the far side of the room. He sees his childhood through the glass and shivers. Memories bump at the edge of the forefront of his mind and again, for the millionth time since he left Portland, what the fuck is he doing here?

\-----------

Sitting at his desk in his cottage on the outskirt of the village, Dr. Ezira Fell rubs his eyes tiredly. He hasn’t been back to the cottage in a few years, luckily, he has a wonderful couple who tends to the cottage when he’s not there. They were excited if not confused when they received his call that he would be coming for a week. It’s common knowledge that Ezira isn’t fond of being in Tadfield but they have done everything he asked for before arriving: stocking the fridge, opening up the cottage to allow fresh, clean air in to freshen up the place as well as dusting and cleaning the cobwebs out. They have done a fantastic job and Ezira’s discomfort has nothing to do with them. 

This cottage is his home from his high school years with his strict and overbearing father and absent mother. After his father died from a heart attack shortly after disowning Ezira while he had just started going for his master’s, his mother signed the cottage to Ezira with a chunk of his father’s life insurance to be comfortable and disappeared. He hasn’t seen or heard from his mother in fifteen years and he didn’t want to. Using the funds given to him, he dove into his research and education headfirst and just recently came up for air. Getting his PhD. in religious studies was more for an explanation to his father’s ideals and why he was told that he was going to Hell for falling for a man. Even now, years later of research and studying and writing his dissertation and going to more sanctified locations around the world than he could count, he still hasn’t found the answers he has spent his life looking for. In the meantime, he wrote a memoir about his upbringing and the skewed views of his father combined with the studies he’s done to negate them. It is the most cathartic thing he ever done and now he feels freer than ever. 

So, what’s the problem? He thinks to himself. All the negativity is out, he’s made peace with the… universe, and with himself. He’s back in this cottage is what the problem is. Why is he even here? He has a lovely home in Kitty Hawk right on the beach that he can grade papers from (a favor for a colleague to adjunct for a semester) and listen to the waves crash calming his anxiety. Instead he’s here, in Tadfield, staring down his teen years. 

Sighing deeply, he gives up on grading the paper in front of him; he’ll do it tomorrow when his brain is fresh. The student has no regards to commas or periods, definitely going to knock the grade down just for giving him a headache. Ezira pads to the kitchen for a snack, a couple vanilla cookies with some hot chocolate sounds good, the fall breeze is a bit nippy tonight. After getting his snacks together, he sits in his favorite chair in the living room listening to the sounds of the forest and lake his cottage is on. It’s not the ocean but it is peaceful in its own way. He supposes that this visit back will be ok. Just then his cell chimes.

**How’s it going, Doc?**

Ezira rolls his eyes and smiles. Anathema was his assistant, friend, sister from another mister and generally favorite person.

_Okay, my dear. Having a hot chocolate and those vanilla cookies you made, with the crème. Very good by the way._

**Oh good! I’m glad you like them; they were an experiment.**

_Well, I am glad I was your guinea pig. Everything ok? Is the house still standing?_

**Of course, it is! I’d call if it wasn’t. Just checking on you, are you ready to see Annnnthony soon? I’m so happy you’re there. Visiting your teenage love and all.**

Ezira blushes and is grateful for this to be in text and not face to face. She knew which buttons to push and was a pro at toeing the line between being a wingman and an absolute bratty little sister.

_Please, he probably doesn’t even remember me. So, I’ll do this reunion thing, see all the people who bullied me, who by the way, are most likely now super fat and miserable and come home to my ocean in a week._

Ana takes a minute to write a response, Ezira watches the three dots move while she texts. 

**Or, he does remember you and wants to reconnect. Stop sending the negativity out to the Cosmos, She listens.**

Three dots again.

**I’ll be thinking about you. When is the reunion again?**

_Tomorrow evening. It starts at 6pm._

**Okay great, I’ll light a candle for you. Make sure to wear your blue bowtie, not the tartan, the blue brings out your eyes and make sure you have a condom and lube… you never know what you’ll be getting into.**

_Ana! I am not bringing anything but my keys and wallet; there is no one in my class that I would even WANT to be intimate with!_

**See Doc, you’re lying… There is Anthony.**

_He could be super fat and miserable too and not remember me AND have a partner or isn’t interested! Now, I need to try to get some sleep, I am going to finish these papers in the morning before I go to the reunion._

**The cards never lie Doc, but I’ll leave you be. Sleep well. XO**

_You too my dear. XO_

Maybe the real reason being back will be here to and remember him. Wouldn’t that be something; to see Anthony Crowley again? Hopefully, the others won’t be here. Hopefully… if the universe listens to this anxiety ridden wish. 

Twenty-one years earlier

“Faggot! Move your ass or I’ll fuck you up!!” One of the jocks yelled at Ezira before shoving him into the wall. He had every textbook for all seven classes in his bookbag, so he was always leaning more forward looking at the ground, changing his center of balance to accommodate the very heavy bookbag on his shoulders. With the shove, his balance was broken, and he hit his forehead on the wall, an egg growing quickly. Mrs. Freeze saw the jock, Ezira now seeing it was Luke Hastur, and got him straight to the principal’s office. Mrs. Freeze was known to be a cruel teacher, as it was rumored that even parents were afraid of her and automatically transferred their kids out of her English class. Ezira thought she was great and had an A all throughout her class when he had her in his sophomore year. 

Luke Hastur being sent to the principal’s office was bad… really, really bad. Jacob Ligur, Hastur’s shadow in all meaning of the word, walked calmly to Ezira and stepped into his personal space, not touching him.  
“You’re going to regret this, fairy. You’re going to regret this even more if he gets suspended for it.” Ligur’s breath smelled rotten, like he ate cheese but never brushed his teeth. He stepped back and patted Ezira’s arm. “Have a good day, Fell.” He said cheerfully walking away with the rest of the Demons. Ezira, however, was grateful that he didn’t pee himself. 

The rest of the day was a blur; anxiety stayed firmly in Ezira’s chest as he watched out for the Demons, which was more difficult than usual because usually they worked in a group but today was special, today they flew around him constantly but only as one or two of them. Something was off today. Creative writing and Government were okay, he was distracted with one of the Demon’s kept throwing paper balls at his head. Math class was an extra sort of awful today, the numbers just laughed in his face. He knew it was time to get a tutor or he wouldn’t be getting into any colleges and his father would have a fit. In the back of his math class, there was another boy, he wore all black and had the hood of his black hoodie over his head. A tiny bit of bright red hair poking out covering his eyes. He always looked like he was sleeping, head down. If Ezira looked at the right time though, he did see a pencil in his hand moving elegantly across his paper. 

“Mr. Crowley, what is the answer you have?” Mr. Sanzo asked thinking smugly he got the punk for not paying attention.

“5x^2*3” Crowley said bored, not bothering to look up.

“Yes, good job.” Mr. Sanzo responded managing to not let his frustration come through. “and so, what we do next…” Ezira stopped listening, not necessarily on purpose. It just turned into the same sound as the adults in a Peanuts cartoon and he was lost. He glanced back at Crowley, fascinated by the peak of red hair, the other not looking up. 

The bell rang for the last class of the day and Ezira groaned internally; gym class was the last class on this rotation, and he hated it… most of the Demons were in this class with him and it was literally torturing him every time he went.

Today was something on a new level, maybe a deeper level of hell for him. The Demons pushed him hard, taunted and pinched and called him name worse than ever before. He knew not to tell Coach Preston; they’d just hurt him more once coach’s back was turned. After the eighty minutes of hell was over, they had to go back to the locker room to change and head out to either a bus or car, however they got to school. To save himself from embarrassment, Ezira never bathes and just gets his regular clothes on and goes straight out and to his bus home. Today though, Ligur was waiting for him with four of his teammates. 

“Look guys, it’s the faggot fairy that got Hastur suspended and now, he can’t play in the game tonight against the Angels,” Ligur starts to creep closer to Ezira with the others close behind. “I think he needs to learn a lesson. How about you?”

“Now really, he shoved me! All I was doing is walking,” Ezira tried to talk reason to them, but they were circling him like a pack of hyenas. 

“Yeah, walking slow like a fat fairy,” Ligur pointed at one of his sadistic teammates. “Hold him.”

They moved like one being. If he wasn’t about to be beaten, he would have appreciated the moment of the team, it was quite graceful. Ligur pulled back and punched Ezira across the face, splitting his lip immediately. He pulled back again and a heavy punch landed in his gut next, knocking the air out of his lungs. Falling to his knees and retching all he could hear is a high pitch hum that he knew as a sign that he was close to passing out. One of the team members went to kick Ezira when he felt another person in the locker room. All he could hear was muffled yelling and feeling movement around him. Opening his eyes but not looking up yet, he saw his own vomit and blood below him and felt nausea rush him again and dry heaved towards the floor, bile coming up in little spurts.

“Hey, you all right?” Ezira heard a pleasant voice talking over him. “They’re gone now. Take a minute, I’ll drive you home, if you need.”

Ezira finding air again, looked up from his place on his hands and knees. What he saw was the most beautiful face. A strong chiseled jaw and straight, slightly hooked nose with the most beautiful, unique eyes he ever saw. The eyes were the color of warm honey, almost yellow and flaming red hair, the top a little on the long side, flopped to the side. It seemed that it was usually used to cover his eyes. Ezira lost the ability to talk but not from the punches he endured. 

After a moment, a hand was holding out to him to help him up. “Ah, um, thanks.” Ezira said sounding a bit thick. He got up slowly and was finally standing in front of his savior. He walked to a sink to take an assessment of his face and saw a busted lip bleeding heavily and his nose bleeding as well. Touching his nose lightly, he was happy (well, as happy as he could be with the experience) that his nose was not broken. His savior was leaning against the wall next to him watching Ezira closely. 

“What’s your name? I think we have math together,” the savior asked. 

“Oh, um, I’m Ezira, Ezira Fell. I think we do actually, you sit in the back of the class right?”

“Ngk, yeah, I’m Crowley. Anthony Crowley, but no one really calls me Anthony, just Crowley.”

“Oh.” Ezira wasn’t sure as to what to say next so he started to clean his face up and swished his mouth with cold water. He couldn’t wait to get home and brush his teeth. 

“I meant it; I can drive you home. I have a car. I’ve noticed you usually take a bus.”

“You noticed me?” Ezira squeaked. He did his best to not be noticed by anyone especially the Demons. It never dawned on him that the way he dressed made him stand out like a sore thumb. 

“Uh, well, your hair is so light it’s almost white. Hard to not notice, really,” Crowley said almost defensively. 

“Oh,” Ezira said again, feeling very articulate today.

“So, ugh, yeah. Come on, let get out of here,” Crowley said looking a little nervous. “We don’t want them coming back with more of them. The few here was bad enough.”

“Yeah, I have to agree.” Ezira gave a little smile and followed the black clad, red haired Crowley.

Ezira is sitting in the passenger seat of Crowley’s car. It’s a beat-up old thing but has a new CD player in it and the sound system is perfect. Crowley hands Ezira an old fast food napkin from the glove box.

“Thanks,” he said softly.

Crowley glances at Ezira, noting the bow tie and not-so-neat dress shirt.

“Don’t mention it; I was wondering why they weren’t fucking with me today. It’s Thursday. It’s usually my day.” Crowley said deadpanned.

“Well, I suppose... new kid to the rescue for a reprieve?”

Crowley snorted. “Sure, whatever. Once they have blood, they’re like fucking vampires” he glances over again. “Just, be careful. The whole group of them are just...” Crowley remembers last year’s “sick and cruel.” He silently shivers from ghost pains. 

“Will do.”

“Right. So, where do you live?” Crowley cleats his throat.

Zira gives his address and realizes they were going the opposite direction. Crowley U turns and heads to where they need to go. 

In the CD player, Ezira is aware of something that is supposed to be music playing. He’s never heard this type of… noise before. It’s not surprising really, his parents being the church people they are, he’s only ever really heard Christian music and classical. Sometimes he’d hear some 80’s pop if his mom was in a good mood.

“I look, I sigh, I need someone, inside to help with, I’m trying. I’m cry, I’m prying in a pile of shit, I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying” This poor person on the CD is screaming so hard. Ezira is a bit disturbed from this but it seems… fitting. “I need somebody (somebody) Somebody (Somebody) Someone!!!!”

Ezira, to himself, says “Huh, well this is interesting.”

“What is?” Crowley looks over at him while sitting at a red light.

“I’ve never heard this before,” pointing at the stereo “but it’s talking to me.”

“Hmm, Yeah, Johnathan Davis has that amazing scream. Korn is the name of the band though.”

“Yes, it’s interesting.”

“Yes, very.” Crowley says sounding a tad sarcastic. “Well, here you go.” They put up at Ezira’s cottage. “Stay out of trouble, I’ll see ya at school, yah?”

“Yes. I will and thank you again Crowley. If you wait a minute, I have some money I can give you, for gas.”

“Oh no, Angel. I don’t need your money. See you later.”

As soon as Ezira was out of the car and the door shut, Crowley peeled out of the driveway and sped down the road like Satan himself was chasing him.

Okay, that was something, Ezira thought. Thought, while walking up to the house and praying to Someone that he can sneak past his parents, he was looking forward to school tomorrow.


	2. Something About you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day of the Reunion and Nerves are all over the place!  
> A memory, a song and an arrangement is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two y'all and it's longer than my usually writing. 
> 
> I guess if you get queasy with high school memories and evil teachers, watch out.

Eriza barely slept that night, mind racing about the reunion that was starting in twelve hours. Promptly at six, knowing that he wasn’t going to get any more sleep, he gets up from his usually comfortable bed and walked down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and slice of coffee crumb cake to nibble while he tries to talk himself out of or going to the reunion. Right now, it’s talking himself out of it. 

_Ok_ , he thinks, _I haven’t been here in well over 15 years. I’m not part of the community, no one who would care that I am here is here._ He knows Crowley left when they graduated, he did too and from what he knows from other people, Crowley never came back. _He probably wouldn’t even recognize me, hell, I may not recognize him._ Though, if being honest, he’d recognize him in a room full of people. Chewing on a bit of cinnamon and sugar crumb, he wonders if Crowley’s gone gray yet, if he was going bald or (a particularly strange thought) might have gotten some meat on his bones. Time has been kind to Ezira, his naturally platinum hair hasn’t shown signs of graying or whitening out. His eyes are still clear and brilliantly blue though they do have crow’s feet and his face has fine laugh lines. He’s always been soft around the middle with unsuspected strength underneath, but now there is a little more softness than there used to be. 

After finishing his coffee and cake, he goes to his office where the paper from hell sits on his desk. Sighing and promising himself that he will never adjunct again, he finishes grading the paper and the few left over in record breaking speed. Rather miffed at himself for finishing so quickly, he straightens up his desk, makes his bed, tends to the dishes that he used earlier and decides that maybe a morning walk would be good; it’s been a few years since the village funded a walking trail with old fashioned lamps for the evening walkers and surprisingly comfortable benches along the way. Putting on a pair of sneakers and a light blue OBX hoodie, he grabs his keys, wallet, iPhone and headphones and head out. 

“Ezira! Ezira Fell, it has been a long time.” A voice that Ezira wouldn’t forget yelled out to him. Gabriel Archer ran up to him in a gray sweat suit and impeccable white trainers. Eriza internally rolls his eyes, it wasn’t that Gabriel was one of his bullies, but he felt the need back in the day to try to put Ezira under his wing and mold him to be, well, whatever he was. 

“Hello Gabriel, how are you?”

Gabriel laughs, “Oh! Still so proper! It’s great to see you out of a bowtie! Finally updated your wardrobe from the turn of the century I see.”

“Yes, well, I can’t go for a walk in my good clothes can I or should I run in my suits?”

“Of course not!” Gabriel is running in place to continue his chat with Ezira. “It is good to see you here taking care of your body, you’ve always been soft.”

Ezira, now almost 38, feels like he’s 17 again. “Yes, I am soft.” He huffs and tries to not roll his eyes for the fourth time seeing him. “Anyway, I don’t want to encroach on your workout. I hope you have a good day.” Ezira starts to put his headphones in trying desperately to get Gabriel to go away.

“Right! Thanks, Ezira! I’ll see you tonight, right? The reunion, I hear that emo guy you hung out with is in town for it. Harriet’s daughter said some rude guy in black showed up late last night at the inn for the penthouse no less.”

That makes Ezira stop. Hiding his hope, he sighs at Gabriel, “Because he’s the only person in our village that wore all black? I doubt it, Gabriel.”

“Well, it could be, he was always rude. Wouldn’t that be something?” Gabriel says, not knowing the chaos he is causing in Ezira’s mind. 

“Sure. Well, I’ll see you tonight then.” Ezira finally gets his headphones in and turns on his playlist on shuffle ignoring the rude remark. Crowley was only rude to dickheads and Gabriel was one of them.

Gabriel waves at Ezira as he goes back to running. 

Ezira starts his walk and lets his 80’s mega playlist entertain him as much as possible. He never did get into recent music, the closest was the stuff Crowley played in his car and that was mostly screaming he couldn’t understand for the most part. He smiles at a memory of the first ride home, it was Korn, if he remembers right. 

After his walk, he heads home to get ready to the reunion. He takes a shower that is super-hot to try to stop the memories flowing back. He remembers Crowley’s smile and bright red hair with amazing eyes. He knows that he has searched the world, quite literally, for those eyes and never finding them. He thinks about his lean body always in black and remembers his scent. The shower starts to turn cold when he realizes his thoughts are going down THAT train of thought. Immediately, he switches the shower to ice cold, it doesn’t do well to get off on to teenage wet dreams. 

Finally dressed in a suit of beige and cream remembering his vest and blue bowtie, he gets in his car that automatically connects to his phone’s playlist. The drive to the restaurant for the reunion is about 20 minutes away. With only five minutes left, the playlist moves to a new song; it happens to be his all-time favorite song and one that holds a memory of him and Crowley. Ezira blushes and smiles, remembering singing…

\--------------------

The day of the reunion is here. Crowley is up early, too wired with nervous energy to get any proper sleep. Beez visiting last night was great and the food even better, he never did find a good Thai place in Portland no matter how hard he tried. Checking his email for developmental updates of the new game his team is working on and sketching a bit on his iPad, playing with a new character idea, he’s in that creative zone where he may be able to see a Muse in the room with him; she is playing nice with him this morning… until he looks at what he’s sketching, a sketch of Angel, as he remembers him. Curly, unruly hair, sharp blue eyes and a scar on his lower lip going slightly past it. He can remember the pain in Angel’s eyes when the Demons (stupid fucking name for a football team, he always thought) got him. Shaking the memory out of his head, he goes to the mini fridge and grabs his leftovers of pad thai. He warms it up in the microwave with a sarcastic thought… It’s food and it’s morning so it shall be the breakfast of champions. 

**YO Big Brother, you ready for tonight?**

Crowley’s phone, iPad and computer all jump to life with Beez’s text. It’s great that everything is connected but when all his devices are together with him it’s overkill.

_Decided to stay in the suite in my underwear, not going._

Of course, he’s going. Just being a brat and he is so not ready for tonight; emotionally, spiritually, physically, thank you very much.

 **Dude! U fucking j/k right!?!?!?! You ARE GOING!! You got to see Ezira!**

_Why are you even up Beez? You’re never up this early ___

____

__

**Seriously you wanna talk about that… I am an adult with a job on that morning schedule, can’t sleep in, body won’t let me anymore.**

_Yeah, adulting is great. Anyway, since you’re up and all, come bring me a coffee and bagel. We’ll chill a bit and then you can make fun of what I am wearing. ___

____

____

**Ugh, fine. Be there in 20. I knew you were going.**

_Yeah yeah. You’re the best._

**You know it >:)**

Crowley gives up on drawing, he can’t focus anyway with time going either super slow or super-fast. He truly dreads going to the reunion. He didn’t have friends back then other than Ezira and that was only for what, a year and a half maybe? Everyone else just skidded along the edges of his life back then. If he’s being honest with himself, that is still the case today. Beez and he are tight but everyone else, well, no one is allowed to get too close. Relationship have come and gone, some longer than other but nothing ever deep. The only relationship ever to get deep was back in fucking high school. Ezira. Crowley starts to think about him, again. _What has life been like for him? Does he have a partner? Will I recognize him? Why am I so stuck on Ezira? Will he recognize me?_

 _What the FUCK am I doing here?_

Crowley starts to pace the suite, letting his anxiety and nerves get the best of him. He thinks, I need to leave and go back to Portland and forget about the stupid reunion. He starts to head to his duffle to repack when there is a knock on his door. Running his hand through his fiery red hair, he opens it to see Beez in all their glory with a bagel bag in one hand and 2 coffees in the other.

“Looks like I got here just in time,” Beez looks their brother up and down. “Your hair is standing up like Chris Farley’s in that movie.” They walk into the suite with an air of confidence and a devil may care attitude placing the coffees and bagel bag on the table. They’re humming to themselves “fat guy in a little coat” as they turn around and see Crowley staring at them.

“What? Tommy Boy is the best movie ever.” They take a sip of coffee and sigh. “That’s good shit. You sure you should have coffee? You’re already looking like you’ve done thousands of dollars’ worth of coke.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you too. I’m worried about seeing the Demons is all.”

“Uh huh. That may have a little truth to it, but I think it is all Ezira. Don’t give me that look.” Taking out a bagel, they make sure it’s theirs and not Crowley’s before taking a bite too big for their mouth. “Ou no, gabreal sawezira today.”

“Say what?” Crowley stops his pacing and his eyes widen slightly manic.

Beez swallowed their food and took a sip of coffee. “I said, Gabriel saw Ezira today, this morning, walking at the park.” It was the secret everyone knows in Tadfield, that Gabriel and Beez are fucking but to actually hear Beez say Gabriel’s name on purpose is just… fucked up and kinda gross.

“So, he’s HERE!?” Crowley practically yells and jumps in the air. As soon as he lands, he runs to his wallet and keys, snatches them and heads to the door.

“Whoa, whoa, lover boy, hang on.” Beez beats him to the door and holds it shut. “Gabe said he looked tense and really wanted to walk. Wait until tonight at the reunion when there are other folks around just in case you need to leave without being rude.”

“But he’s here! I got to see him, even if he doesn’t see me yet, I need to, Beez.” Crowley is going slightly mad.

“Look, he’s not at the park anymore, that was hours ago. Just” Beez pauses, “relax. I have to go to work. You gonna make it?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I, uh, I’ll do something. Chill, take a nap or something.”  
“Alright. I’m not bailing you out if you land in jail, dude.”

“Yeah, yeah. I have plenty of cash if I end up in jail, can bail myself out if need be.” Crowley smirks. 

“Good, you oughta share. Text me tonight after, alright, wanna make sure you’re still alive.”

“Will do. Thanks. You’re alright sometimes.”

Beez chuckles, “yeah and that’s why I only spit in your coffee once in a while. Peace out!”

Rolling his eyes and sitting down again, “Ciao, fuckhead”.

About an hour later, Crowley is burning with curiosity and anxiety and maybe a tad of longing. He’s cursing himself for driving his Bentley, no one in Tadfield has one so everyone looking would notice it. He could uber, Crowley thinks, just to see Ezira’s car. Crowley drops his head, rather hard, on the desk; he knows he’s a mess. Looking up Ezira’s address, the old cottage he used to live in, and realizes it is only 2 miles away from where he is standing right now. He looked at his watch, 7 hours before the reunion started, that’s plenty of time to get to the cottage, see Ezira and get back, shower, dress and go. 

Making up his mind like a crazy person, he gets his black hoodie, cell, keys, wallet and room key card and heads out. He covers his head with the hoodie, his hair hasn’t changed in color nor has it gotten any grays yet. He doesn’t want to be caught or seen after all. He makes it to Ezira’s road and all the sudden, memories come flooding back like a tv show recap. The time he had with Ezira back then was the best in his life, he has chased dreams he had then through his life and he can say that with the exception of one, they all became reality. He gets to Ezira’s house and it looks almost exactly how it did 20 years ago. The yard is a little neater and the flowers are in better condition that back then too. He walks casually to the side of the house where Ezira’s window is with the perfect texture of stone to climb to his window. He entertains the thought that he could climb it again and get a peek of the room but then realizes he is 38 now, not 18 any more. He sighs deeply, the only thing he’s learned is A. he’s a creep and B. Ezira drives a Honda HR-V with a discreet rainbow sticker, and a silly quote about squirrels and a rave on it. 

He walks back to the sidewalk to make his way to the inn to get ready for the reunion. He looks up to the cottage one more time and sees Ezira’s profile, he was heading to sit in the living room from the look of it. Crowley’s breath catches in his throat, Ezira is beautiful. A tad softer than he was then but his hair is the same, his nose, and the tiny bit of extra flesh under his chin, Ezira is everything Crowley dreamt of when he thought about the reunion before he decided to attend it. He knows now, no matter what happens tonight, coming back to Tadfield, seeing old ghosts, will be completely worth it when he gets to see Ezira’s face.

Crowley walks back to the inn feeling better than he has since getting to Tadfield. He takes a shower and lays out his outfit for the night; sleek black slacks that hug his hips and are sinfully tight, a plum button-down shirt and patterned black waist coat. He decides to forgo the tie, keeping his shirt’s top two buttons unbuttoned. Black snakeskin boots and his sunglasses. He takes a picture and sends it to Beez. Their response is instant, two thumbs up with an eggplant and water drops. He takes that as a positive and decides to have a quick snack, there’s supposed to be food at this thing but to keep his stomach and nerves in check he eats a Cliff bar and has a glass of ice water. Finally getting dressed and checking his reflection in the mirror, he realizes he is humming a song. He smiles genuinely and soft. It’s Ezira’s favorite song of all time, at least it was 20 years ago. He always listened to 80’s music anyways…

**Twenty-One years earlier**

Ezira’s lip was healing fine as long as he didn’t talk too much or smile. He did his best to keep his head down and to blend into the walls of the school, usually making it to his classes without an incident. Now though, he seems to have a bright neon sign for every member of the Demons to give him more issues than not. It wasn’t lost on him that something VERY BAD should have happened but didn’t. Anthony, wait no, Crowley, helped him out of a bad situation, but he hadn’t spoken to him since and he really, really, wanted to. Now that he was actively looking for Crowley, he realized that they had a few periods together; math with Mr Sanzo, literature with the sadist, Mrs. Floyd, and study hall. They also shared the same lunch though they sat on complete opposite sides of the cafeteria. Ezira was shy but stubborn: he wanted to talk to Crowley again and he was going to do it one way or another. 

Ezira was focused on listening to Mrs. Floyd’s lecture on Shakespeare’s Comedies verses Tragedies. He was fond of the tragedies; it reminded him that his life, in the grand scheme of things, could actually be worse. Ezira glanced over at where Crowley was sitting and from the looks of it, trying desperately not to faceplant his book; he looked like he just got a lobotomy with the way his mouth was slack, and a bit of drool was trying to escape the corner of his lips. 

Mrs. Floyd, always looking for the weak in her class, saw Ezira glance at Crowley and decided to pounce. “Anthony Crowley, what do you feel is a big difference between Shakespeare’s works?”

Crowley was so shocked to being called out that his hand slipped, and his head landed with a solid thud on his book. Said head practically bounced back up and he cleared his throat. “I lost our spot, what page are we on?” He was frantically turning pages of his lit book. If he didn’t pass this class, he was done for. Mrs. Floyd sneered at Crowley. “We are not on a page, Anthony; I am discussing the difference between the Comedies and Tragedies of William Shakespeare. As you have the audacity to sleep during my valuable class time, I suggest you leave.”

Crowley huffed a sharp “Fine,” and gathered his bag and books. Not paying attention, he left behind a sketch pad that somehow got stuck in the tray under his desk. As he left, he said to the rest of the class, “The differences between the two are one side, everyone gets married and the other, everyone dies.” He stormed out to wait out the last of the period in the courtyard, then he could beeline to his car and get the fuck out of Dodge. He hated that class and hated even more that it was necessary to graduate. He knew at the rate he was going he was going to end up in summer school because of it.

The class was over and thankfully the school day was too. Ezira eyed Crowley’s sketch pad to make sure no one else noticed it and got it before leaving the classroom. He ran, as much as he could with all his books on his back and the pad held tight in his arms, to the parking lot to try to get to Crowley before he was gone for the day. He was going to miss his bus but that was ok, he’d figure out a way to get home even if he had to walk, he had never seen Crowley without his sketch pad and could imagine it being a bad thing if he didn’t have it. 

Ezira was grateful for the first time ever, that whoever designed the parking lot was from Hell, it always took forever to get out, like the parking lot was cursed and needed the teens’ souls to stay and feed the grounds. Because of this, Ezira was able to find Crowley rather quickly; he just had to keep an ear out for the loudest screaming coming from a car. Crowley had his hoodie down and he had a pair of round-lensed black glasses on bopping his head to the song. “Everything you say to me!!!” Ezira knocked on the window of the passenger side door. Crowley didn’t hear or see him and Ezira is distracted for a second watching Crowley’s mouth move to the lyrics. The cars move in front of him and Crowley inched forward. Ezira ran behind the car and to the driver side. “I need a little room to breathe!!!!” He knocked the window again and Crowley jumped, almost hitting his head on the roof of the car.

“Fuckin’ A Angel, what the fuck!” Crowley rolled down his window and turns down the radio. “Is there a reason why you felt like giving me a heartache today?”

“Uh, yes, actually.” Ezira, heart pounding and innards shaking, handed Crowley his sketch pad. “This got stuck in the grate thing under the desk in Mrs. Floyd’s class. I thought you mind need it.”

Crowley took it and flips through the pages making sure nothing was missing. “You didn’t look in it?”

Ezira scoffs and thought to himself, _seriously?_ “No, why would I? It’s not mine.” 

Tonya, from the looks of it, honked her horn, Crowley flipped her the bird and inched forward again, making sure Ezira was far enough to not get his toes run over. At that moment, they both see the buses heading out of the parking lot on the other side of the school. Ezira groaned, he wasn’t paying attention to the clouds.

“Uh, thanks. Hey, Angel.” Crowley glanced at the sky and the buses and Ezira’s face in quick concession, “How are you getting home?”

“Oh, I was going to walk, it’s a beautiful… day” At that moment the rain started.

“Sure, it’s fucking gorgeous.” Crowley leaned over to the passenger side, unlocking the door. From the driver side again, he looked to Ezira, dark spots coming down quickly on his shirt, “Get in.” 

Ezira didn't argue and ran to the passenger side and gets in, shutting the door quickly. The rain decided it wasn’t going to hold out and started dumping from the clouds right then.

“Uh, thanks, for saving me.” Ezira looked at Crowley, “From the rain.”

“No problem, thanks for my sketch book.”

“Sure, you’d do it for me.” Crowley was shocked at the statement and was even more so that Ezira was right. “What are you listening to today?” Ezira asked to try to not be so nervous.

“Linkin Park. This new band, I like the lead singer’s voice. Like, he has a great scream but can sing too. It’s good.” Crowley says excitedly. “The whole album is great, there’s a song for every mood.” 

Ezira nodded his head, he’s distracted again because he’s in Crowley’s car, again, and now he’s noticing details since they’re still in the damn school parking lot. The car was clean. He didn’t see any dust or trash in it. There was a CD sleeve over the passenger visor loaded with a million CDs and then a CD book in between the seat and middle console. In the back seat was Crowley’s messenger bag and pile of schoolbooks with some professional looking colored pencils and a couple sketch books; Ezira guessed he didn’t use his locker either. 

Ezira took out his CD player from the front pocket of his bag, he remembered that he didn’t turn it off after lunch and just pressed the pause button, now he’s hoping that the batteries weren’t dead. 

Of course, though, they were. Ezira groans loudly, making Crowley look at him concerned.

“Oh, it’s nothing, my batteries are dead, and I can’t get more until next week. My parents don’t approve of the music I like.”

“What do you listen to that has them all grumpy? Is it Marilyn Manson?” Crowley asked wagging his eyebrows, knowing that that can’t be it but wanting to know.

“Well, I have never really listened to the current music, I find it either really shallow or really angry.” Ezira said and Crowley chuckled. “I like the older stuff, 80’s mostly but I have listened to some 60’s and 70’s stuff too.”

“Wow, on purpose?” Crowley asks.

“Of course! Awesome 80’s Saturday is the best!” Ezira said excitedly. Crowley just looked at him like he is the cutest thing he ever saw. “What? Do I have something on my face?” Ezira wiped his face of imaginary crumbs.

“No, no, Angel, you’re fine.” Crowley cleared his throat and was finally almost, 3 cars away from getting off school property. “So, what are you, I mean, were you, listening to now?”

Ezira turned pink across his cheeks and tips of his ears. “Well, there’s a band from England that I really, really like that NO ONE here even knows!"Ezira pushed the eject button on Crowley's player and takes the CD out, shocking Crowley with his brashness. Crowley was shocked again with himself by handing Ezira the CD book to put the CD away. Ezira opened his CD player and puts his own CD in the car player. “They’re called Level 42 and my favorite song of all time is by them.”

Ezira started the song and it is the most 80’s pop sounding song ever. “How! How can it be, that a love carved out of caring...” Crowley didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing but he listened anyway to see what kind of message Ezira may be trying to give. He knew, the best way to get into someone’s head was by listening to whatever they’re listening to. 

Then everything stopped. Ezira started singing along. “That there is something about you, baby, so right. I wouldn’t be without, baby, tonight.” For perhaps, the first time in his whole almost 18 years of life, Crowley blushed, across his cheeks and down his neck. The sight isn’t lost on Ezira, but he continued to sing. “These change in years, they add to your confusion, oh when you need to hear the time that told the truth.” Crowley thought that line of lyrics was a bit weird but in Ezira’s clear voice, they were beautiful. “And now there’s something about you, yeah yeah yeah. And I couldn’t be without you, tonight.”

The song stopped and went on to the next one, but Ezira turned down the radio. “So, yeah, that’s my favorite.” He chuckled self-consciously, “The whole album is awesome, and I found an imported greatest hit I want to get but just don’t have the money yet. Michael at the music store is holding it for me.”

“Well, it is definitely 80’s sounding, Angel” Crowley said and watched Ezira’s face start to fall. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it though, it’s you.” Crowley genuinely smiled at Ezira, who smiled back so brightly that Crowley was relieved to have his sunglasses on. They were almost to Ezira’s house by this point and Crowley realized that he didn’t want to leave Ezira yet. “What other CD’s do you have?” 

Ezira, not yet ready to deal with his mother, says. “Well, I don’t have a lot of CDs per se, I spend way too much time downloading them from Napster. Well, not Napster anymore, I guess, but Limewire is good and Bearshare. My library is getting really big.”

“Yeah, mine is too, but I think you and I have really different tastes.” Crowley laughs.

“That’s fine, dear,” Ezira patted Crowley’s forearm, “I can educate you.”  
_He called me dear._ Crowley blanks out for a second. “Uh yeah, and I could bring you up to speed by 20 years.”

Ezira rolls his eyes and chuckles again. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.” Ezira takes a deep breath. “I am a complete loss at math, and I am nose diving into a big F. I can’t get into college with my math SATs being shit so... Could you tutor me, at least so I can pass the class?”

Crowley laughed whole heartedly, that was not what he thought Ezira was going to ask. “Yeah, I can tutor you for a price.” Ezira arched an eyebrow, he knew what he WANTED to pay Crowley. “If you tutor me in lit. Mrs. Floyd wants my soul and I won’t be able to go where I want to if I don’t pass and I really do not want to do summer school because of the bitch.”

“Crowley!” 

“What! She is a bitch!”

Ezira scoffs and sucks his teeth, “Yes, I think we can tutor one another.” He took his hand out and shook it with Crowley’s. “I think this is a good arrangement. Did you want come hang out a bit?”

“Nah, I can’t, Angel, gotta get home for Beez. My sister.” Crowley said when Ezira looked confused.

“Oh, okay, well. Are you on AOL?”

“Yeah, here” Crowley wrote down his screenname and Ezira gave his. 

“Cool, so, see ya later.” Ezira got out of the car. “Yeah, Angel, Ciao.”

Ezira forgot his CD in Crowley’s player, he noticed when he turned the radio up again once Ezira was in his house and had started driving away. Now that Crowley was alone, he put the player back on the first song. He would deny it if ever asked, but he listened to it on repeat while heading back to his own house. Ezira thought there was something about him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a mix of Crowley's and Ezira's music styles and the songs you'll see here are close to my heart.
> 
> True Story:
> 
> When I was 5-6 years old I saw Level 42's music video for "Something about You" and it was my first ever favorite song even if I didn't get the music video until I was way older. We had a radio station that did Awesome 80's Saturday and almost every Saturday I requested them to play Something about you. Fast forward to my sophomore year in high school (grade 10) and my latin teacher of all people gave me a copy of World Machine (on cassette) and I was officially hooked. Also, no in my small piece of the world knows who they are!!! I mean seriously! Mark King is one of the best bassists I have ever hear.
> 
> Don't be surprised if y'all see other Level 42 songs in this fic ❤️😍😘
> 
> Level 42 is STILL one of my favorite bands of all time, and Something about you is my ALL TIME favorite song and is on every playlist I make... Sometimes the live version, sometimes the album version.
> 
> Tears For Fears almost got a moment here too but maybe another chapter... Theres a few I love.
> 
> Crowley's song in this is "One Step Closer" by Linking Park. RIP Chester.


	3. The Black Plague or Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Memory Chapter of fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I went through my own memories of AOL and school and this chapter came pouring out!
> 
> A million thanks to my beautiful betas @raechem and @cherubino  
> and a SUPER DUPER special thanks to @SarahMae1780 with coming up with Ezira and Crowley's AOL screen name!!
> 
> So, I have been TRYING all freakin' day to add the Red and Blue for the AOL IM's but I couldn't figure it out... If I get to a point where I can get the colors in, I'll fix it. 😍
> 
> Have I told y'all you're the best today?

WildePoohBear: Hi, Crowley? What are you up to?  
CDevil007: Hey, Angel! Nothing much, downloading some music. I need to finish my Queen Collection.  
WildePoohBear: Queen? I know Queen! You listen to Queen?  
CDevil007: Of course, I do! Freddy Mercury has the best fucking voice in the entire universe!  
WildePoohBear: Yeah, he really does. =) Did you ever get to see their performance at Live Aid? What I wouldn’t have given to be able to have been there.  
CDevil007: Right!?!? I mean I was 3 but it would have been awesome to see.  
WildePoohBear: Ha! I was 2 so yeah.  
WildePoohBear: So can I ask about your screen name?  
CDevil007: Uh, what about it?  
WildePoohBear: Well, what does it mean?  
CDevil007: You don’t like it?  
WildePoohBear: I could get used to it =) I was just curious about what it is about.  
CDevil007: Well, I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours first.  
WildePoohBear: Oh, well that’s easy. So growing up I really liked the Winnie the Pooh books and cartoon so that’s Pooh Bear and I really enjoy the writer Oscar Wilde. So, WildePoohBear.

Crowley was sitting at his desk with his computer downloading three Queen songs, he was lucky he could do three at a time instead on just one… When his connection was slow it would take forever to download. Twenty minutes per song was a lot of time wasted if he got disconnected. After reading Ezira’s explanation of his screen name, the first thought he had was, could he be even cuter? He took a swig of soda and responded back

CDevil007: That’s cool. Mine is kinda easy too, Jonathan Davis from Korn is known as JDevil and I love the James Bond movies so CDevil007 it is, you know Crowley Devil  
WildePoohBear: Yes I get it =)  
WildePoohBear: So. I’m working on Mr. Sanzo’s homework. Have you done yours yet? Do you have the answer for number 23? I have been looking at this since I got home.  
CDevil007: Angel, I dropped you off 6 hours ago. You’ve been doing homework for 6 hours???  
WildePoohBear: Yeah? You don’t do your homework?  
WildePoohBear: I mean, I got my Lit and Government done. As much as I’m bombing Math, I’m bombing Chemistry too… It’s all effin’ math!!!  
CDevil007: Did you really just type effin’?? And you’ve seriously finished that much homework, on a Friday night?  
WildePoohBear: Yes, why are you shocked? I get my whole weekend by avoiding my parents today and then I get to do what I want Saturday and Sunday.  
CDevil007: Uh, I guess that makes sense, I just have better things to do on a Friday night.  
WildePoohBear: Oh. I can let you go. I didn’t mean to bug you.  
CDevil007: Wait, you needed the answer to number 23 right?  
WildePoohBear: Yes, but you haven’t done it.  
CDevil007: I have it. It’s -11+23i  
WildePoohBear: O_o How did you get that?????  
CDevil007: FOIL  
WildePoohBear: Foil?  
CDevil007: Yeah  
WildePoohBear: … I have no idea what you’re talking about.  
CDevil007: I think this might be easier in person; whatcha doin tomorrow?  
WildePoohBear: ::sigh:: apparently Math and Chemistry Homework. My brain hurts.  
CDevil007: So, how about I come to your house and I’ll tutor you; then, if we have time, we could pull out the Necronomicon.  
WildePoohBear: Necronomicon?  
Cdevil007: Yeah, our Lit book.  
WildePoohBear: OH! Yes, we can do that!  
CDevil007: Awesome. When do you want me

Crowley pressed enter by accident and wanted to die right there. He banged his head on the desk in front of his computer. He sat up and typed the rest of the sentence.

CDevil007: over I mean?

Ezira read the sentence again and blushed into the red of the ripest tomato, and then saw the second line. 

WildePoohBear: I wake up early most of the time, want to come over at 10? I have bagels from New York.  
CDevil007: wasn’t your visit to your aunt’s like a month ago?  
WildePoohBear: Yeah but we freeze them in baggies and then we have them for a while.  
CDevil007: That’s innovative.  
WildePoohBear: Shut up.  
CDevil007: what a way to talk to your tutor Ezira, so rude!  
WildePoohBear: Well, Anthony you started it! :P  
CDevil007: OK, ok. I’ll see you tomorrow at 10.  
WildePoohBear: =) I look forward to it.

Ezira logged off and took a look at his room. He was an organized chaotic sort of person with his room looking like a library exploded in it. In the middle of his room was his bed, a simple double with a tan and blue tartan comforter. Two huge bookcases on either side of his dresser filled with books and more books on his two bedside tables. He had a couple posters on his wall; one of Oscar Wilde (that sometimes may or may not have had assisted him in falling asleep a few times) and a great print of an old announcement for the Globe theater. It was a mess but organized and after debating for a whole minute, he decided not to try to clean it. (well, with the exception of getting ALL the dirty glasses from it, 4 on his desk, 2 on the side table he tended to go to bed on, one rolled under the bed and one on his dresser.)

His parents were snobby political people, always showing support to the runner, either it be locally or nationally. He didn’t quite get it, they always provided whatever he needed but were more or less absent in his day to day life, unless they needed to “catch up”. Father liked to “catch up” and bark his demands about once a week. Once having told Ezira his expectations with a red face, he’d leave him alone for a while. Maybe that was the reason they got him his own phone line for his computer… or because they needed their line open for the campaign calls. Either way, he was grateful and was grateful for the privacy he had to roam the internet and read things he normally wouldn’t have had access to, he couldn’t get to the gay book store a few towns over so it was the internet that entertained him some lonely nights. They were blind to him and that was ok, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Madam Tracy was the one who mattered the most for the things that did matter, she was the one who ran the cottage, did the groceries, cooked, cleaned and raised Ezira. 

“Hi Tracy! I’m just getting a snack,” Ezira came into the kitchen with his 8 glasses to put in the dishwasher. “I have a friend coming over tomorrow, I’m helping with Lit homework.”

“Oh, really, lovey! That’s nice.” Tracy maintained an air of nonchalant interest when really, she wanted the whole scoop. “I just did groceries so there’s plenty to eat, do try to eat at least 2 bagels, the onion and garlic is stinking up my freezer.” She looked at Ezira over her reading glasses. “What’s his name?”

“How do you know it’s a he?” Ezira smirked.

“I have my ways. He’s going to be very important to you.” Tracy said sagely. 

Ezira sighed, she tended to get all mystic on him ever so often. “His name is Anthony Crowley but likes to be called just Crowley and we have a few classes together. He’s going to help me with my Math and Chemistry.” Ezira found a clementine, peeled it and popped a wedge in his mouth. “I think we’ll be good friends; I like him already.”

“Huh, like him already, do you?”

“Well, I, um, yeah.” Ezira gave up and huffs, “He’s cool.”

“Well, since he’s cool, I think we’ll all be fine then.” Tracy moves to put her teacup in the sink, she always had a Sleepytime tea before bed. “Your father is gone for the weekend and your mother is at some function with her court, so it’ll just be us.” Ezira loved Tracy even more when she talked about his mother’s friends like they were a royal court to entertain and please, he felt he had a kindred spirit in her.

“OK, great. Good night, Tracy.”

“Good night my dear.” And with that, Tracy padded her way to her room.

Ezira headed to his room and turned out the light after getting his pajamas on. As he chased sleep, his thoughts turned to Crowley: his hair, his eyes, the smirk and the way he walked. He’d thought about the fact they were going to be, essentially, alone and he was excited and nervous. He stared at Oscar Wilde for a long time that night and tried his best to get red hair and honey eyes out of his head.

CDevil007: Angel!!  
CDevil007: ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL!!!!!  
CDevil007: AANNNGGEEELLLLLLLL!!!!!!  
CDevil007: I know you’re online what the fuck!  
WildePoohBear: I am allowed to use the restroom sometimes, Crowley.  
CDevil007: Did ya fall in? Never mind, where were you today? Mrs. Floyd was extra evil. I think she knows I am trying to exorcise her.  
WildePoohBear: Please tell me you didn’t bring holy water to class… I know I entertained the idea of getting you some from church but still.  
CDevil007: she smoked a little from the drops I put on the podium.  
WildePoohBear: ::sigh:: I doubt that.  
CDevil007: No really! She got extra smoky when she handed me my paper. Guess what I got?!?!?!  
WildePoohBear: What??? She graded them already. I got to get better soon, what did you get??  
CDevil007: I got a FUCKING 87!!!! A fucking B!!!! In Mrs. Floyd’s class!!!  
WildePoohBear: Oh, I’m sorry, I thought the grade would be better.  
CDevil007: WHAT!!!! Are you fucking kidding!?!? I could kiss you!!! That is the best grade I’ll EVER GET FROM THE Evil Queen!!! Can you help again soon? This shit make sense to me and I don’t want to lose it!

Oh shit, did I really say I could kiss him? Crowley thought to himself and again, banged his head on his desk. His time at Ezira’s house was the best time he’d had in a long time. Ezira was witty and funny and sometimes a right bastard but one he could fall for dangerously fast. He had a way of explaining things that no teacher ever had and listening to him read out loud was magical. They spent a good chunk of the day with Ezira lying in a hammock in the sunroom reading Hamlet to Crowley. Then, while Ezira shared his notes and helped Crowley write his paper, Crowley would steal glances at Ezira. He was beautiful, Crowley thought, a sharp mind with a soft fluffy body. He found himself distracted a couple of times and had to “use the restroom” to try to gain control of his body. He wanted to go back as soon as possible without being a creep.

CDevil007: I missed you in class, and I think Mrs. Floyd did too. You’re the only one that stays awake.  
WildePoohBear: My throat is killing me. Tracy made a nice smoothie and then soup. Strep throat sucks, but I should be able to come back by Monday.  
Cdevil007: Monday!!! It’s only Wednesday!! O_o What’s going on? Do you have the Black Plague or something? You’d never miss this much school.  
WildePoohBear: I don’t know what you mean? I have strep throat.  
Cdevil007: Uh huh. And after 24 hours you’re not contagious. I looked it up.  
WildePoohBear: Oh, good Lord, you think I have something going on?  
CDevil007: Yeah, I do. And you know what? I’m coming over.  
WildePoohBear: What, no! I’m sick!  
CDevil007: Yeah, I’ll be there in like 10 minutes. I’ll have an ice cream for you.  
WildePoohBear: Crowley, my parents are home tonight, you know how they are, you think they’ll let you in??  
CDevil007: Noooooooo, I’ll climb in your window. See you in 10!

And Crowley logged off without another word. Ezira had a moment or five of panic, he was in his boxers and a ratty t-shirt, he really was sick and really did have a strep throat. He probably could go back to school sooner than Monday but as his mother was pretending to be a mother, she was doting on him for everyone else, telling everyone she was letting him stay home until Monday. That also meant he couldn’t see Crowley in the regular way, he really didn’t think that Crowley would be over, I mean, why would he? He has better things to do that to try to climb to my window! Ezira thought to himself but still found a pair of pajama bottoms to put on. 

Eight minutes later there was a tiny “ping” near his window. Ezira thought he was imagining things at first until he heard it again. Going to his window, he opened it up to cold breeze of fall. The air smelt fresh and there was a hint of someone’s woodstove burning.

“Hey, Angel! I got you some ice cream and Triscuits!” Crowley whisper shouted to Ezira from the ground. 

“Triscuits? That’s random. How are you going to get up here? You have to be quiet or I am going to get grounded for real.” Ezira couldn’t believe that Crowley actually at his window at 8:30 on a Wednesday night because he was sick.

“Gonna climb, of course! Here, you have to catch.” Crowley first got the Ben and Jerry’s ready to throw, he had gotten the Triscuits in his messenger bag.

“Catch!? Do I look like a jock to you?”

“Catch or someone will hear us and we’ll both get in trouble. “Crowley tossed the pint to Ezira and thankfully, he caught it. Looking at the container, it was his favorite flavor, Mint Chocolate cookie. How he actually found it was a mystery. Ezira always looked for it but it was never in the store. 

“How are you going to get up here? I don’t see a ladder or a tree or anything for you to climb.” Ezira, despite not feeling good and worrying that someone will catch Crowley, was excited to have he in his room. They only stayed in the common areas of the house when he was over before, he was embarrassed about his room to show it to Crowley. 

“How about you get some sheets and tie me a rope?”

“Ugh, how about you grow wings and fly up here.” He watches Crowley pace a minute under his window, his hair an eerie muted color in the moonlight and bag crossing his shoulder that caused him to have a weird lumpy shape. He rarely saw Crowley with a focused look on his face, the only time was when he was drawing.

“Shut up, I’m coming up, keep the window open.” Crowley tested some of the ridges on the stone wall of the house with his fingertips and started, almost magically, to climb the side of the house. He made it after a few minutes, it took longer because he couldn’t really see finger and foot holds. He grabbed his messenger bag off his shoulder and handed it to Ezira then pulled himself into the room effortlessly. Ezira just stood there staring at Crowley while he brushed his hair back from his face and gave a lopped sided smile holding his hand out. After coming to, Ezira handed Crowley his bag. “Hey sicko.” He smiled.

“I can’t believe you just did that. Are you really a human or are you some form of snake hybrid thing?” Or maybe an X-Men? Ezira was lost for words and completely smitten. This was new, he always thought something was wrong with him, he never liked girls like everyone else did and he wasn’t really fond of boys either, Oscar Wilde didn’t count, they were all stupid jocks who had more muscle than brain… Crowley though, was perfect.

“Nope nothing special, me. Just like to rock climb and can climb almost anything.” Crowley then took in Ezira’s room, messy and cluttered, noticing the tartan comforter and the fact Ezira had a great stereo system but no TV. “This is cool.” He walked to Ezira’s desk and looked at the corkboard with slips of quotes and a couple doodles Crowley have given him, there were tickets to Les Misérables from when he went with his aunt in New York and a photo of him at a beach shirtless with toes in the sand. “Cute.” He said looking at the picture a little longer. He finally looks at Ezira and his eyebrows furrow a little. “You look like shit.” 

“Jeez, thanks.” Ezira said dryly. “I really am sick, you know.” Now looking at Ezira, Crowley saw that he was right. He was paler than usual and the sparkle (sparkle? What the fuck) was dim from his eyes, they looked more feverish than anything. 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry I came over, I can leave.”

“No, please don’t. I’m happy you’re here. I’ve been bored out of my mind and Imissedyou.” Ezira rushed and mumbled the last bit of the sentence. Crowley opened his bag and looked inside to try to hide the blush creeping on his cheeks.

“Ok cool. Here.” Crowley hands Ezira a spoon for his ice cream and the box of Triscuits. 

Ezira meant to say thank you but what came out instead was, “Why Triscuits? They just look painful.” He was eyeing the box and visibly swallowed, it made his throat hurt more. 

“Well’ Crowley started while toeing his shoes off after getting his hoodie off, he had a Slipknot concert t-shirt on, “When I have strep, they scratch my throat when it itches. It feels good when it starts to heal.” 

“Oh, well I’ll try them when I get there then, thank you.” Ezira smiles at Crowley, “How did you know Mint Chocolate Cookie was my favorite flavor?” 

“That was a guess, you always say they never have your flavor at the store.” Crowley took another pint out of his bag; cookie dough. He really never has a sweet tooth but eating ice cream with Ezira, he’d take it.

Ezira moved to sit on his bed while he gestured to Crowley to sit anywhere, he swept his hand to the bed as well, letting him know it was ok. Crowley slipped next to Ezira on the bed with his ice cream and spoon. “How did you get out of your house? I thought you were grounded.” Ezira asked as he got his first spoonful of ice cream.

Crowley, after moving his bite to his cheek, said, “Oh, I climbed out my window.” He saw the look on Ezira’s face. He sighed, “The parental units were fighting and probably won’t even notice I’m gone.” He took a bite of ice cream, “I would have been here sooner but I wanted to make sure Beez was good first.”

“Oh. Crowley, I’m sorry.” Ezira said more to his pint than to Crowley. “I know what it feels like to be invisible. Well, to my parents and almost everyone else anyway. I can’t seem to shake Hastur and Ligur.” He snickered bitterly. “You’re the only friend I got, and I have no idea how.” 

“Well, it’s not like I have a posse or entourage, Angel, unless you count a bunch of music files and sketch books. You’re Hastur and Ligur’s flavor of the month, I was last year. They’ll forget you eventually and move on. That’s what they do.” Crowley took another bite of ice cream. “You’re the only friend I have, seriously, do you think I’d climb anyone’s house?”

Ezira smiled. “No, I suppose not.” 

They ate in comfort silence for a while, lost in their thoughts. Crowley was happy to be near Ezira, he had missed him too. Ezira got up and turned on his stereo and put a burnt CD in. Freddy Mercury sang about wanting to break free when he got back to the bed. Ezira was mouthing the words a bit and Crowley was enthralled. After a few songs, Bohemian Rhapsody started and they both in a fit of giggles lip-synced and acted out the song, remembering, of course, to head bang on queue. Crowley saw that Ezira was looking more tired once his ice cream was gone and a new song started, but his eyes had started to look better, more like himself. He didn’t want to leave Ezira but knew he couldn’t stay.

“You’re looking tired, I think I’ll head out.” Crowley said taking Ezira’s empty pint and his to the waste basket he saw next to the computer desk. 

“Do you have to? The bed is big enough and I have another pair of pajama bottoms you could wear. You’ll swim in them but they’re comfortable.” Ezira sounded so hopefully, Crowley looked back at him. “It’s been nice having you here. I’ve only talked to Tracy and my father had one of his talks at me yesterday while I was really dying.”

“That must have been great fun while being sick, Angel.”

“Yeah, a total blast.” Ezira picked at his comforter. “I mean, you don’t have to, but it is late, and you have to go to school tomorrow.” He sat up quickly with a thought. “Where’s your car?”

“It’s still at home, I couldn’t drive away or they would have seen.” Crowley chewed on his lip. He wants me to stay! I can stay, just need an alarm clock or something… Shit, I can’t, but he wants me to stay! Crowley thought to himself. “I oughta go though, Beez doesn’t do well with the ‘rents fighting, but I’ll be back tomorrow night, is that cool?” Trying and failing miserably at being nonchalant. 

Ezira could understand Beez not taking the fighting good, she was only 15. “That’d be cool.” He got up from the bed and watched Crowley get his shoes and hoodie back on. “I’ll be online for a bit, if you can, sign on and let me know you made it home.”

“Sure, Angel.” He gave a crooked smile and opened the window. He dropped his bag from the window first and sat half in, half out for a minute. “Try to come back to school before Monday, It’s not the same without you.”

“If the fever breaks, I’ll be there, I can imagine I have a lot to make up.”

“Seriously, that’s what you’re worried about?”

Ezira sucked his teeth and huffed. “Good night, Crowley.” 

“I’ll see ya later.” 

Crowley climbed out of the window and down the house faster than he climbed up. Ezira watched Crowley until he was out of sight and logged back into AOL. He was starting to doze off when he saw that Crowley signed in.

CDevil007: Made it home, Angel.  
WildePoohBear: Oh good! I was starting to fall asleep at the desk.  
CDevil007: You didn’t have to stay up for me you know.  
WildePoohBear: Yeah, I did. You came here and brought my favorite ice cream and hung out and you’re the best. I hope I feel better soon, I didn’t realize how much I missed stuff.

Ezira was going to say how much he missed Crowley but then changed it. He already told him he missed Crowley; he didn’t need to say it again. He could still smell Crowley’s scent in his room, and it made him feel funny things in his stomach. It could have been all the ice cream; he did have a fever still after all. 

CDevil007: Yeah. I’ll check on you tomorrow. Did you need anything other than your homework, I’m not getting that for you :)  
WildePoohBear: ::sigh:: Well, other than homework, no.  
WildePoohBear: Actually, I take that back. If you can, how about a large cherry Slurpee?  
CDevil007: I’ll see what I can do >;)  
WildePoohBear: You really are the best. Why are you so nice to me?  
CDevil007: I’m not nice, that’s your fever fuckin’ with your head.  
WildePoohBear: Oh, that must be it. =) Alright. I am going to bed. Good night, dear.  
CDevil007: G’ nite, Angel.

Crowley logged off and threw himself on his bed. It was official, he had a crush and it was the biggest crush he’d ever had. He knew, without a doubt, that he would walk into hell for Ezira and do it with a smile. This messed up his plans to get out of Tadfield. What was Ezira’s plans? He decided not to worry about that for now, it was only October anyway and he had time. He lay on his bed daydreaming of blonde hair and blue eyes for a while. There was so much he wanted but didn’t know if he could have it. The daydream started going a more erotic way but was forced to shatter because of his own reality.

He heard his mother crying in her and his father’s room and decided to check on Beez. She was three years younger than he, but smart, she knew what was up in their house. Crowley opened his bedroom door quietly. He walked with socked feet to his sister’s room to see if she was up. Cracking the door, he saw that she was asleep, cuddling with her stuffed fly and her stuffed flesh-eating disease doll. She was a strange kid, but she was his. He never teased about her cuddling with her stuffies, he knew it was for comfort and understood. He closed her door and went back to his room to try to get some sleep. 

Crawling into his bed and burrowing in, his thoughts went back to Ezira. Was he even gay? He did have a picture of Oscar Wilde on his wall but that could be anything. He could just be a fan. Crowley scoffed at himself; yeah, right, and Crowley himself was just a fan of Filter and slightly intrigued by Richard Patrick. Following that train of thought, Ezira wasn’t even his type, he was too clean. Maybe clean was the wrong word but the fact remained that he was different and despite the good wholesome look and how poised he seemed, there was something underneath that was raw and sharp. As he dozed off, he couldn’t wait to see Ezira tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you don't know what I meant by head banging to Bohemian Rhapsody (I don't know how you couldn't but anyways) this link will educate you 😃  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thyJOnasHVE&t=112s
> 
> Beez's Stuffed house fly  
> https://collectiblewildlifegifts.com/stuffed-house-fly-6-inches-long-f1564-b137/
> 
> Beez's stuffed Flesh Eating Disease  
> https://www.giantmicrobes.com/us/products/flesheating.html
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this! I really had a blast writing it and @raechem didn't have to bleed all over it to fix my grammatical mistakes. T'was a good week ❤️
> 
> Also I am on Tumblr and Twitter too both are @stormiepassions (I think that's how you use the handlers, right?)... I just don't know how to use them or anything LOL Come help a sister out!


	4. How You Turned my World, You Precious Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories... Talks of college and a movie night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Beautiful people! 
> 
> I am going to be visiting my mother this weekend so I thought I'd go ahead and post early! (Never thought in a MILLION years I'd be able to do that!) 
> 
> As usual, Thank you thank you thank you to my wonderful betas!! @raechem and @cherubino I don't know where my writing would be without you!
> 
> So here ya go!

Ezira was sitting in his usual corner in the cafeteria reading the passage from Canterbury Tales for Lit class. He was involved. So much so, in fact, that when Crowley dropped his sketch pad on the opposite side of the table, Ezira jumped about three feet in the air and yelped like an excited chihuahua. Crowley only gave a sly grin and sat down, or rather, slithered down, moving his limbs way too smoothly. 

“So, did you know we had the same lunch?” He asked.

“Actually, I didn’t.” Ezira said not really looking up to Crowley. “I usually eat and read. No one ever sits with me.”

“You need to stop reading and rest your eyes from the books. You’re gonna end up in glasses.” Crowley said.

“Already in glasses, I wear contacts.”

“Huh? Do you really?”

Ezira gave a noncommittal “Mhmm” and kept reading.

Crowley placed a gingerbread muffin on Ezira’s open Lit textbook page. That finally broke Ezira’s concentration and he looked up. He really looked at Crowley for the first time and looked grumpier than usual. His lips were a tight thin line and his hair was more in his face. Ezira closed the book and started removing the paper from the muffin. Crowley wasn’t doing well.

“What happened?” Ezira asked Crowley, not looking up from the muffin. He did see that Crowley had a lunch with him; a sandwich from home with chips, soda, and another muffin. Crowley started to take his sandwich out but didn’t take a bite.

“What do you mean?” Crowley tried to play cool but couldn’t meet Ezira’s eyes.

“What do you mean, “what do you mean?” You look like you’re ready to bite someone’s head off or start crying.”

“I’m fine.” Crowley mumbled.

“Uh huh.” Ezira reached out and placed a firm but kind hand on Crowley’s forearm. “What happened?” Ezira’s tone changed to something softer.

Crowley took a deep hitching breath and finally looked at Ezira. His eyes were watery and threatening to spill. “I talked to Mr. Bynum today, the academic advisor guy. He said that my portfolio for applications to art schools wasn’t detailed enough and that I should look into other educational opportunities.” Crowley looked to his right for a moment and discreetly wiped his face. “All I ever wanted was to go to art school, get my graphics designer degree and now, the applications are due by January first and that’s what? Five weeks away? I don’t know how I am going to get my portfolio together quick enough, Ezira.”

Ezira looked at Crowley with empathy and kept his hand on Crowley’s forearm. Crowley would have been in heaven if he wasn’t so upset. “What can I do to help?” Ezira asked. He had already gotten his applications out for early action back at the tail end of October. Now it was just waiting to see who accepted him. At the moment, though, he wasn’t going to tell Crowley that.

“Well you can’t do any of the pieces can you?” Crowley smirked, “I saw what you did to that poor pineapple.” They had decided to see what Ezira could do with a pencil a couple of weekends ago. It wasn’t pretty.

Ezira rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth. “Well, of course not, but I could help with the essay or statement part if you need. I’m not going to write it for you, but I can edit it and, uh, if you want, I could look at your pieces and tell you what I like.” Ezira was nervous, not that it made any sense, but he was. “Not that my opinion matters, I think Mr. Bynum could be wrong.” A funny thing that Crowley noticed when Ezira spoke, he always made it a point to not use the word “but”. He kept meaning to ask Ezira about it but always forgot.

Crowley was kind of secretive about his big pieces. In a way he didn’t want to be judged but knew he had to be to get into college. Ezira was his best friend and his crush; it was a tad complicated since a piece he was on the fence about to add to his portfolio was a simple but beautifully detailed drawing of Ezira himself. Crowley drew it one night when the ‘rents were really going at it. Beez was asleep in his room and he couldn’t fall asleep. It was perfect, it caught Ezira’s sparkle in his eyes when he laughed and the bow of his lip and the scar on his lower lip. He had never showed Ezira this piece, he thought it would make him think that Crowley was either a creep or it’d show his crush, and nothing is worse than someone knowing about a crush and not feeling the same way. That just made things… weird. 

“I think that it’s Friday and school is almost done for the day. Mrs. Floyd is out today so we won’t have Lit homework and if you help me with math and chemistry and I help you with your history homework, we can have all day tomorrow to relax and then start working on your portfolio.” Ezira smiled at Crowley and for a minute, Crowley thought everything was going to be ok.

“That’s fine and dandy but what about your applications? Aren’t you worried about yours?”

“Oh, um, I, uh” Ezira was struggling. He didn’t want to make Crowley upset more. “Ialreadyfinishedallofthem” He mumbled.

“You wot?!” Crowley was lost for words. “What, all of them?”

“Uh.” Ezira was very interested in his muffin. “Well, my father told me I have to try for a few and then my mother had her say.” He still didn’t look at Crowley. “Then I applied for the ones I really wanted to get into.” He tore a bit of his muffin and popped it in his mouth. Crowley just gaped at Ezira. “So, I did, um, thirteen in all? I mean we both know I am not getting into any of them and will end up in community college which is actually not a bad idea because I really do not want to get into politics like my father wants and I don’t want to be a doctor like my mother wants either I can’t cope with blood and vomit, you know, I mean you already know that how much did I puke when you stopped the demons from beating me to a pulp and WOULD YOU STOP EFFIN’ STARING AT ME?!”

Crowley got over the initial shock and started to smirk at Ezira, of course he’d be finished already, he didn’t even know that Ezira was working on his applications in the first place. “When did you even have time to do thirteen of them with our homework and everything, Angel?”

“Well, I have been having issues with sleep, dear. Always have, you know. So, when I had a particularly bad night, I’d do the essays. Then about five in, I realized I didn’t need a different essay for each application and just started copying the essay, tweaking it for each school.” He was particularly proud of that because he started running out of ideas about what to write by the fifth essay. After taking a gulp of chocolate milk to wash the last of his muffin down he finished saying, “that made it way easier to get them done and luckily my parents weren’t interested in actually reading the essays, just the list of schools I applied to.”

“Where did you apply?” Crowley was enjoying listening to Ezira. He was so smart, it was wonderful.

“Oh, I can’t remember them all. I’ll show you the list when we go to my house today. My parents are gone again for a Republican celebration thing this week, Madam Tracy and I are on our own. Think you could spend the night tonight? We could get our homework done and then relax for the rest of the night and tomorrow? Then game face on Sunday to start your applications.”

“Uh, I have to check with the ‘rents and make sure Beez is good.” Crowley was nervous but excited but nervous about having a whole weekend with Ezira. “I don’t think it’d be a problem though as long as Beez is good.”

“Awesome!” Ezira beamed a smile at Crowley that knocked the wind out of him. Why did Ezira blast him with that smile? It was like he knew…

As the five-minute bell rang, they packed up and started to head to their classes, stopping at the door of the cafeteria before they walked in opposite directions. “Hey, Angel.” Crowley stopped, looking a bit softer in the eyes.

Ezira stopped and looked at Crowley, surprised at the softened honeyed eyes and the openness there. “Yeah?”

“Ngk”, Crowley played with the string of his hoodie and purposely looked at Ezira. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Ezira looked at Crowley and had a little smile on his lips. “You’re welcome. You know, I am always here for you, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you after school, meet me at the car?”

“Yeah. Remember, only 3 hours to go.” Ezira said, heading to the right. Crowley turned and headed to the left.

\--------  
CDevil007: I’m heading over in a few, Beez managed to get to go to a friend’s house tonight. She was acting a bit weird today.  
CDevil007: well weirder than usual.  
WildePoohBear: Oh good! I was going to start without you so I could tease about knowing the answers… How so?  
Cdevil007: You’re a nasty bastard sometimes, you know?  
WildePoohBear: So I’m told, but you wouldn’t have me any other way. =)

Crowley sighed at that; no, no he wouldn’t. 

WildePoohBear: Alright, hurry up, I don’t want to be doing homework all night.

Crowley could think of a few things to do during the night with Ezira but stopped that train before it even left the station. He was going to Ezira’s to spend the night...

CDevil007: So fucking bossy. I’m heading out be there after I drop Beez off.  
WildePoohBear: Alright, say hi for me.

\-----------

Crowley got to the house without a hitch and Tracy greeted him fondly at the door. Ezira was in his room and Tracy told him to go ahead and head up. Ezira’s door was closed and knowing himself that he’d hate it if Ezira barged in on him in his room and potentially caught him doing something embarrassing, he knocked. “Come in, Crowley!” Ezira hollered from inside the room immediately. Slightly disappointed at Ezira’s response, (he wasn’t doing anything interesting) Crowley walked in. 

Ezira had all his textbooks out and spread across his bed while sitting in the middle leaning against the headboard. “You got here quick! Beez ok? She has my number, right?”

“Yeah, Angel. She’s staying with Dagon tonight and maybe tomorrow if they don’t end up trying to kill one another.” Dagon was Beez’s best friend, when they weren’t fighting. “Though, I have to say, my Spidey sense is tingling, and I don’t know what’s up. Beez’s acting weirder than usual.”

“You said that earlier, how weird is weirder for her?” Ezira was waiting for Crowley to join him on the bed with his books and binders.  
“Well, she barely talked to me for one, and for another she… seemed to get mad for being called a girl?” Crowley turned it to a question and took his place on the bed. “I dunno, Angel, just something feels off.”

“OK, so talk to her when you pick her up. You two are thick as thieves, I would think she’d talk to you.”

“Yeah.” Crowley opened up the math textbook first. 

“No.” Ezira said quickly.

“No? What’s no?”

“We are not doing math and chemistry first.”

“Why not? It goes so much faster than History.” Crowley threw his arms out and shrugged.

“Because you still zone out on History after your fun is over, is why. Besides, History was a short assignment and I already finished it.” Crowley baulked at Ezira.

“So, why can’t I just copy yours?”

“Because you can’t copy my test answers later. We’re not in the same class, just the same teacher.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Ezira dramatically sighed, “Yes I know, go to page 302.”

Ezira was all business but did help Crowley out with some answers that he just didn’t get. History moved to Math and then Chemistry. Ezira didn’t have an F but he wasn’t acing it either. As long as he could end up for an upper B average, his GPA wouldn’t get hit too hard for his college applications. After homework was done, they headed downstairs to watch a movie that Crowley picked out. One would think Crowley liked the horror, blood and guts, but he really was a fantasy fan. Ezira had mentioned before that he never saw Labyrinth so naturally, Crowley had to educate him. Tracy was awesome and got Crowley’s favorite soda when she learned that Crowley was coming over, as well as both of their favorite snacks. Loaded up on sweet and salty goodies and soda, they headed to the living room.

“So, which schools did you apply for?” Crowley asked. He was still shocked that Ezira applied for thirteen!

“We’re not talking about that, tonight and tomorrow are recharge, regroup days. We can talk about that shit on Sunday.” Ezira didn’t mind telling Crowley but he really didn’t want Crowley to start spinning again about his portfolio until Sunday. “So, Labyrinth. I’ve heard of this, but you know my parents, they’d never let me see it.” Ezira started the DVD player and got comfortable on the couch with Crowley. Crowley was comfortable at Ezira’s house, he had changed to his pajama bottoms and black tank top. His hair had already been long enough to fall in his face and now growing more. He could make a tiny ponytail with most of it. Right now, it was tucked behind his ear, keeping his face open.

Ezira was completely captivated by Jim Henson’s creation. When David Bowie came on the screen the first time, with the curtains blowing around him and glitter, Crowley glanced at Ezira for his reaction. Not that everyone who was gay liked David Bowie, but a lot did… and Ezira didn’t disappoint, he sat up a little straighter and paid more attention. 

Throughout the movie, Crowley kept tucking his hair behind his ear and it was getting annoying. He started huffing about halfway through the movie.

“You know, I know how to braid.” Ezira casually told Crowley. “My cousins are all girls and they taught me over the summer. I can braid your hair out of your face if you’d like.”

“Uh, alright.” Crowley got off the couch and sat in front of Ezira on the floor, he still wanted to watch the movie, so he sat sideways, making a point to not look at Ezira. Ezira on the other hand, completely stopped watching the movie and focused only on Crowley and his beautiful thick hair and sharp profile. He carded his hands through the silky crimson hair. praying to the universe that Crowley didn’t feel his hands shaking. Crowley hummed in relaxation, enjoying the touch of Ezira’s hands but also having his hair played with. He never understood why it was taboo for guys to like their hair messed with. Ezira took the longest part of his hair and started a little French braid to keep it from falling back in his face. Finishing up the end, he didn’t have a tie, so he let it sit there. Carding Crowley’s hair again, he decided to braid the other side and had Crowley move facing the TV. Crowley watched the movie, leaning his head back to give Ezira more access and hummed again.

“I think Jennifer Connelly is beautiful, I mean, she was fifteen in this movie, but David Bowie? If I were Sarah I’d say “OK” at the end”. The credits were rolling and Ezira was still playing with Crowley’s hair. 

“Really? David Bowie is beautiful but still way too old for Sarah.” Ezira said. His mind was going a mile a minute: Crowley found David Bowie attractive? 

“Well, if you look at it that way, of course but I remember seeing Jareth for the first time. I think that was the first time I, uh,” Crowley cleared his throat and started turning red.

“The first time you?” Ezira was having a moment. Was Crowley implying… “Oh! Oh. So, um, do you like just David Bowie or guys in general?”

“Well, I love David Bowie, even today with him being old. I’d run away with him in a heartbeat. But to answer your question, I like guys mostly but there are a few girls that are cute.” Crowley turned to Ezira then, forcing Ezira’s hands out of his hair. “Is that a problem?” He looked at Ezira defiantly, like he was waiting for Ezira to kick him out and not be his friend anymore.

“No! Why would it be? I, uh, I like guys too. I figured you’d already know with the Demon’s yelling faggot and fairy at me all the time.”

“Please, I would never assume because of that! They’re idiots.” Crowley laughed. “So, uh,  
cool.” Crowley blushed again. “OK.” 

It got really quiet, really fast, in the living room to the point that they could hear the heater kick on. 

“Did you-“

“What do-“

They started talking at the same time. Looking at one another, they both started to laugh. Ezira couldn’t get his brain to start up again and his heart was beating so hard and loud that he swore Crowley could hear it. Crowley wasn’t doing much better, he felt like he was ready to puke or pass out. 

“Uh, did you want to watch another movie; I think it’s my turn to pick.”

“Sure, Angel. What did you pick?”

After a few minutes of trying to decide between two films, Ezira popped in The Breakfast Club. “Since you picked an 80’s movie, I thought I would too.” 

“That’s fine, Angel.” Crowley paused a moment and cleared his throat. “I need something more to drink, did you need anything?”

“Oh! Yeah, I’ll come too. Tracy got us some stuff.” Ezira led the way to the kitchen and they made up more food and filled their cups. They moved in the kitchen silently, both lost in their own heads and both coincidentally having similar thoughts. Walking back to the living, they kept bumping into one another; a hand, a hip. Ezira wasn’t paying attention once they reached the room and almost walked right into Crowley.

“Sorry, dear,” he said automatically. He got the remotes and comfortable on the couch. 

This time, Crowley stayed on the couch but significantly closer to Ezira, sharing the soft throw blanket between the two of them. Once ready, Ezira started the movie. He knew it from beginning to end and a bunch of trivia that went with it. His running commentary was really his nerves, he was trying so hard to calm his heart. Has an almost 18-year-old ever died of a heart attack? Crowley seemed to be just as nervous too, if Ezira was able to see beyond his own panic. As time went on, they both got into the movie and Ezira started acting out the scenes making his own interpretation. Crowley got out of his head with Ezra’s silliness and started to enjoy himself again. He was laughing at Ezira’s dancing towards the end of the movie and had a realization: this is his best friend and he will always be his best friend, no matter his crush or not. 

“I’m tired. I’m going to go to bed. You want to come with?” Ezira asked Crowley with half-closed eyes and a big yawn.

“Yeah, I’m beat.” 

Crowley grabbed the trash and plates and took them back to the kitchen. Ezira turned off lights behind them as they headed up to his room. Ezira climbed into the bed like he always did, and Crowley paused a moment. Oh shit, he thought, next to Ezira all night? He’s gonna hear my heart! Crowley cleared his throat and climbed in on the opposite side. Ezira turned off the lamp throwing them into darkness. 

It was quiet. They could hear the wind outside and with the older cottage, you could feel a small draft come through the windows. Crowley never thought he’d fall asleep with his heart running fast as it was. Ezira, on the other hand, was strangely calm. He was lying in bed with his best friend and he was, without a doubt, in love. Even if he wasn’t Crowley’s type and Crowley wasn’t into him like that, he was his best friend. So no matter what, they always had each other.

As he started to fall asleep and was in that place in between sleep and wakefulness, Ezira reached out to Crowley to hold his hand. Somehow in the darkness of night, it was easier. Crowley took a deep breath and held his hand. After a minute or an hour, he didn’t know in the night, Crowley rolled over, and Ezira followed, throwing his arm around Crowley and pulled him into his chest effectively becoming the big spoon. Ezira nuzzled into Crowley’s hair and hummed; lacing their fingers together over Crowley’s abdomen. Crowley never had a better night’s sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo... No kiss... I kinda wanted a kiss, I begged and pleaded and tried to smush their faces together but they weren't ready. That's ok though they'll get there eventually. 
> 
> Got some good news, the next chapter is almost ready, just have a couple little tweaks to do and yeah! I'm just not sure if I oughta wait til next Sunday or post sooner... as a reader myself, I am usually BEGGING (in my head of course, I think I've only literally begged twice) the writers to post sooner. 
> 
> A song for this chapter is "Don't you forget about me" by Simple Minds and the entire Labyrinth soundtrack.
> 
> You know that part where Jareth says to Sarah, "I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."
> 
> I was the one who, despite Sarah needing to grow up, yelled at the screen "OK!!! YES!!!" 😍
> 
> Long Live David Bowie ❤️❤️❤️❤️


	5. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In present time... is it time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!! 
> 
> I wasn't planning to post this yet but I changed my mind when I realized I sucked writing back on comment for chapter 3 so, SURPRISE!!!!!!!!
> 
> Thank you as always to my betas; @raechem and @cherubino!
> 
> This is a little shorter than the others, I hope you all enjoy though 😘❤️

The restaurant is a nice enough place, it’s new compared to everything else in Tadfield. Ezira arrived early by five minutes, a habit from his father who always said on time is late and five minutes early is on time. It is one of the things that Ezira liked about his father. Sitting in his car taking some deep breaths, he doesn’t see anyone yet coming out of their vehicles, they all look like regular, everyday cars. He chastises himself; he is 37 for crying out loud, he can walk into a restaurant filled with people who hated him… twenty years… ago. He has earned his doctorate; been around the world, these old ghosts mean nothing to him! Well, with an exception. A comforting thought he holds onto, he will be seeing Crowley, and he might already be in there. Taking a fortifying breath, he opens the car door to walk into the restaurant. 

The waitress escorts him to the private dining room where the reunion is taking place and there’s already a couple of people there. Someone had taken the time to decorate a little with some balloons and paper tape. At the door is a sign in sheet and Michael is there, all smiles.

“Hello” Ezira says to Michael.

“Oh, my goodness! Ezira Fell! It is so wonderful to see you!” Michael is in a nice pantsuit and heels with a soft lavender shirt. Ezira didn’t even know she knew his name. “How are you? Twenty years. Amazing, right?”

“Ah yes. Time flies when you’re having fun.” He attempts to smile in a friendly way. 

“It sure does.” She smiles back. “He’s not here yet by the way.”

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Anthony Crowley. As soon as you put in you were coming, he reserved too. I thought you two would be coming together actually.” Michael says in a gossipy tone.

“Oh, yes, I haven’t seen him in twenty years too. I am looking forward to seeing him and everyone else, of course.” He says conversationally. After saying goodbye to Michael, he walks and says hello to the few already there, ordering a drink from a waitress and finding a place to sit. Some things never change. He finds a corner spot away from the popular girls, uh, women, turned soccer moms and their bored husbands. It’s a good spot, a spot where he can see everyone coming in but isn’t in front of the folks walking through the doors. Now he waits.

\--------------

Crowley, despite his earlier calm, is a bundle of nerves. He manages to get to the restaurant in one piece and not get pulled over for running a red light (which really was an accident). He tends to be late for everything, Beez always said that Crowley would be late for his own funeral and knowing Beez, they’re going to make it happen just because. Crowley looks around the parking lot and promptly starts to hyperventilate; Ezira is here. 

Remembering his anxiety coping skills from therapy, he finds five different things for the five senses (This was something he was quite fond of using and really seemed to help. His therapist at the time was a bit of a hippie but a good, kind of a bitch, kind of a saint, hippie. She saw through his bullshit and poked and prodded and started the process of healing; first with helping the anxiety attacks.) and calms down. Breathing five seconds in through the nose and five more exhaling through his mouth; he lists what he finds; sight, a blue car; sound, the traffic from the road; touch, the silk of his tie; taste, the last bits of his mint toothpaste; and smell, his favorite cologne. Taking another five and five breath, he remembers, it is JUST Ezira. His best friend, his… first real love and probably his only real love if anyone were to ask his exes. He starts to spin with all the “what if” questions he’s been driving himself crazy about the last 24 hours, including the ever-present “What the fuck am I doing here?” Taking a deep breath and looking himself over in the rearview mirror, he talks to himself, “okay, alright, you’re good, we’re good, I’m good, it’s all good.” He looks at himself again and decides to wear his stupidly expensive dark sunglasses. “Fuck you,” He says to himself, slightly pissed for needing his version of a safety blanket and get out the car.

He stops as he sees someone else walking in front of him and is reduced to being 18 again, Hastur and Ligur show up together in the same car. That’s not as surprising as seeing them hold hands and Hastur holding the door for Ligur. Crowley holds his barking laugh until they’re inside, he can’t wait to tell Ezira. Shaking his head, he walks to the door and steps inside.

\---------------

Hastur has had a difficult life after high school; he never was happy either with life or himself. He did manage to get into a college for football but after an injury that stole his dream of playing in the NFL, he spiraled out of control in a well of self-pity and denial. Dropping out of school and getting into drugs, he fell from the world. His parents tried to help; sent him to rehab twice paying out of their own pockets despite him stealing thousands of dollars from them to support his drug habit. When they had enough and kicked him out of their house, changing their locks, security code and phone numbers, he hopped from place to place, couch to couch, bed to bed, always looking for the next fix. He was a broken, sad, husk of a man.

After a bit of bad luck (or good luck depending on what mood he is feeling at the time) he landed at Piedmont Regional Jail in Farmville, Virginia, detoxing from everything he had been using for years and re-evaluating all of his life choices. After that first week of shit and piss and vomit and tremors and begging the officers to just kill him, he woke up clean. Yes, he was still in jail and had 2 years to do for the stupid theft he tried to complete and yes, he was still broken… but he was clean. He couldn’t remember the last time he was. 

He started reading the books other inmates swapped with one another and taking an interest in carpentry. He started making a plan for when he got out, to work and to stay clean. He joined Narcotics Anonymous; every month getting a new chip for his sobriety and when he hit a year clean, he sent his parents a letter admitting his wrongs to them and apologizing. (Step four and five were the hardest steps for him; making the fearless moral inventory and admitting to the High Power and another person the true nature of his wrongs.)

He never expected forgiveness. He never expected to be able to just be. Once he got out of Piedmont, he found a nice apartment that his parents funded until his first paycheck. He didn’t want to use them again; he didn’t want to depend on them. They, doing their own therapy and working on their stuff after receiving his letter, started to own their part of his issues; not with pity and trying to fix a problem, but with staying uncomfortable and working it out. He quickly found work; an ex-inmate remembering him and taking a chance took him under his wing. Hastur flourished. He made top quality wooden pieces and did cabinetry. He was never late for a job, was grateful for anything that was given to him, and went to NA every night. He found his niche in the universe and he was almost happy, if not content. 

After a particularly hard day that tested his sobriety and faith, he went to a meeting and found out that a young kid who reminded himself so much of himself, had died by an overdose that day. The speaker was good, he’d heard them before, but it didn’t help the hole and bleeding that was coming from his heart. He saw the kid just the day before. He was full of hope and had told Hastur he was going to tell his crush that he was, in fact, in love with them. Hastur never found out what happened, the kid was gone. 

Hastur barely heard the speaker and went through the usual motions of the meeting. Once over, instead of hanging back and talking to the newcomers and catching up with his friends, he left without saying a word. When the folks who were used to Hastur and knew him realized he was gone, Hastur’s phone started to blow up with texts asking if he was ok and to call if he needed. He turned off his phone and put it in his glove box. He wasn’t going to need it where he was going. He drove the hour back to Tadfield to go to his once favorite haunt, Tipsy O’Keefe Pub. 

Walking in was like walking into a memory; nothing had changed. It was a typical pub with a long bar and a few high tables scattered throughout. He walked up to the bar like he did all those years ago; before getting clean, before feeling. He always had his NA chip in his pocket, it was something to play with in his hands when anxiety would hit or to remind him of how far he came. That night, it didn’t matter. He put his seven-year medallion on the bar looking at the bartender.

“Jameson, Neat” He clearly stated.

The bartender picked up his medallion and turned it over in her hand. Looking at Hastur again, she put it on the bar in front of him and turned to pour his drink. She placed it behind the medallion, so he saw that before the glass. Looking him in the eye for a second, she walked back to the other side of the bar to get drinks for the 20 something year old group who were being loud and stupid.

Hastur picked up the glass trying to ignore the medallion and all the work he’s done the last 7 years. He looked at it again and places the glass down. He knew he should be calling his sponsor, a friend, someone. Instead, he was sitting alone in the pub, contemplating falling again. The door of the pub opened to another few people walking in and one of them sat two stools away from Hastur. The guy ordered a glass of ice water and the voice sounded familiar; he looks over at the guy and everything stopped as if someone had stopped time. It was Jacob Ligur. Hastur made the choice to not drink. He put the glass down and picked up his medallion, placing it back in his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he got up and moved one seat next to Ligur. “I haven’t seen you in almost fifteen years.” 

“Luke? Luke Hastur!?”

“Hi Jacob.” Hastur smiles the first real smile since high school. He was happy.

They haven’t parted in five years, both sober and clean and so in love.

\----------------

Ezira is getting antsy. Crowley is, or used to be, the fashionably late type, usually no more than five, six minutes but still. Apparently, that is still a thing. All his anxiety about seeing Crowley is thrown out the window when he sees Hastur and Ligur walk through the door as a massive panic attack kicks him in the chest. He feels like he’s 17 again and about to get beaten in the locker room. Touching his scar on his lip subconsciously, he tries to casually get to the bathroom before he vomits or cries or pass out, maybe even all three. 

Hastur sees a flash of platinum hair streak by at the back of the room towards the bathrooms and squeezes Ligur’s hand. “I’ll be back, love. I have to talk to Ezira, got to make it right.” After signing in and kissing Ligur quickly, he heads to the bathroom following Ezira.

\---------------

At that moment, Crowley walks into the room and is greeted by an overly enthusiastic Michael. After signing in, she lets him know that yes, Ezira is here, yes, he found a seat in the corner and no, she has no idea where he is. 

Looking up to scan the room, he sees a flash of platinum hair himself heading to the bathroom, followed by the bald shine of Hastur’s head working his way there too. Having a peculiar sense of deja vu, Crowley sees Ezira’s spot (his keys and half-drunk wine), places his keys next to Ezira’s and walks with a purpose to the bathroom. 

Opening the bathroom door, Hastur is standing at a closed stall leaning on the side talking. “I just want to say, I’m sorry for all the shi-“He looks at Crowley walking in. “I’m not doing anything. I’m trying to apologize.” His eyes clear and filled with remorse.

Crowley stares him down with his glasses on. He knows he’s intimidating like this; not moving, not giving anything away in the parts of his face that are visible. 

Hastur looks away and says to the stall. “I’d like to talk to you later, Ezira, please.” He looks at Crowley and almost cowers away leaving the bathroom. Crowley looks quickly at the feet of the stalls and sees they’re alone. Taking a silent breath and willing himself to sound confident, he says, “We have to stop meeting like this, Angel.”

Ezira gasps and exclaims, “Crowley!” he struggles to open the stall door; tripping over his own feet and manages to knock his head on the corner of the door. Muttering, “damn it all to fucking hell”, once open, he half throws himself, half falls on Crowley for the biggest hug. Crowley hugs him back tightly and inhales deeply, Ezira is in his arms and all is right with the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the back story wasn't too much, I always have a hard time with bullies and wasn't sure if I wanted to give Hastur any room for redemption. I did know that he needed to apologize to Ezira so any way to get there works.
> 
> Next chapter is a memory one again and things start getting tense. I am apologizing in advance. 😘
> 
> Thank you for sticking it out with me! Y'all are the greatest!


	6. Pain, Art and Soft things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art gets looked at, confessions made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early... Whhhhhhhat!!!! 😘
> 
> A million thanks to my beautiful betas @raechem and @cherubino
> 
> OH!!!! Wait! I have no idea what CW means but Ezira's father is an abusive prick. This is a tiny physical violence so I'm sorry

Crowley woke up first. He was comfortable with the sun streaming in warm fall light on his face. He opened his eyes and moved a little to stretch; realizing there was a weight around his middle. A little more awake, he looked down and saw Ezira’s arm over him, holding him close. He closed his eyes for a minute, trying to remember when they started cuddling. It was sometime during the night, it had to have been, he wasn’t as brave as he wished he was. He carefully rolled over to face Ezira. He was still asleep, tightening his hold on Crowley for a brief second, as if he thought Crowley would leave. Crowley stilled himself once comfortable again, allowing Ezira to slip deeper into sleep. Ezira smiled a tiny smile; Crowley’s heart stopped. Ezira was beautiful. Almost white hair glowing in the sunlight, his face relaxed. Ezira’s face was never fully relaxed when he was awake. He was an overthinker and was always learning something. He looked younger in his sleep. 

Crowley, looking at Ezira, was starting to think about the future. What if Ezira liked him like he liked Ezira? He had the plan to get out of Tadfield, he needed to get out. Art school was what he wanted. Mr. Bynum was clear; his portfolio was severely lacking. He needed to give it a boost and needed to dig deeper. Ezira said he’d help with the written part, so he knew that was going to be great… but what if he just wasn’t talented enough? What if he showed Ezira the real pieces that he never showed anyone and Ezira hated it? He didn’t think he’d survive that type of rejection. So, Ezira liked boys too… That was something. Was Crowley a boy he’d like? Wouldn’t that be something? 

He lightly dragged his index finger across Ezira’s jaw down to the point of his chin. He then traced the scar from the locker room fiasco. Sheer dumb luck that he walked in when he did; he didn’t mean to walk into anything, he had just forgotten his pencils in his gym locker. It was, he thought sarcastically, divine intervention. What if there was a greater being that pulled strings like that? Was it meant for them to know one another, was it meant to be for them to be together? What did it mean for his future and getting out of fucking Tadfield?

“Shut up, Crowley, I can hear you thinking.” Ezira said with his eyes still shut. “It’s Saturday, rest day.” He made the biggest dramatic yawn moving his arm away from Crowley. The chill of his exposed back from the missing appendage that was holding him made Crowley shiver and try to burrow into the blankets. Everything now under the blankets with the exception of his nose and eyes, Crowley watched as Ezira opened his eyes, the magnificent clear blue looking into his own warm honey. “Already thinking this early can’t be good for you.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I can’t help it, Angel. Mr. Bynum, he really… He really messed me up.” Crowley took a shaky breath, rubbing his face with his hand, “I need to get out of Tadfield, Ezira. I can’t end up like my parents. They’re miserable. They make me and Beez miserable. I can’t be a construction worker like dad or a hair dresser like my mom. I can’t, Ezira. I’ll die here.” Crowley’s eyes became wet. “I have to do more.” At that, Crowley’s tears escaped. 

Ezira grabbed Crowley and held him. “Hey, it’s ok. I have no doubt that you’ll get out of here. I know I said tomorrow we’ll work on your stuff, but did you want to do that today instead?” he pulled away from Crowley to look him in the eye, “I mean, I just want to have time with you, it feels like we’re always at school.”

Crowley chuckled, “That’s because we are. You keep insisting we go every day.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t want to get in trouble.” Ezira said, hand still on Crowley’s hip from the hug. It felt like it was always supposed to be there. 

“Goody two shoes.” 

“Yeah but you still like me.” Ezira said. He looked at Crowley through his eyelashes and the moment suddenly charged up between them. 

“Yeah, I do.” Crowley said softly. He wasn’t talking about Ezira being a goody two shoes either.

Ezira smiled softly and looked into Crowley’s eyes. It was a treat to see them this close, seeing the honey with flecks of green that was usually missed. He felt himself starting to lean closer to Crowley’s face, then suddenly cleared his throat and looked away, blushing high on his cheeks and tips of his ears. “Let’s have some breakfast and print out some applications. Then we’ll head to yours, we can look at your art and fix this portfolio.”

“Oh, yeah. That sounds good.” Crowley blinked a few times to get his head back on straight. He had been going to lean in to give a kiss to Ezira. Trying not to be disappointed, he followed Ezira out of the bed and used the bathroom in the hall while Ezira used his own. Meeting in the hall, Ezira was wearing glasses. Crowley just about died looking at Ezira with a retro looking black framed glasses on. Could he be anymore adorable? “Ngk, pretty An- Angel? Cute. Uh, yeah goo, uh, good look on you.” Crowley.exe crashed officially. 

Ezira blushed extraordinarily brilliant, taking his glasses off and in a nervous tick, cleaned them with his t-shirt. “Ah, yes, if you like four-eyed nerds with a pendant for dead writers and literature.” Crowley, still not having his words back, just nodded vigorously. “Oh, um, well then.” Ezira still fantastically pink, looked bashfully at Crowley. “Thank you.” They walked down to the kitchen where Tracy was about to start breakfast, kind of not accidentally brushing fingers between them.

\------------

“Good morning, lads! I see you found the goodies I got for you.”

“Yeah, they were great, Madam Tracy, thank you.” Crowley said giving her a warm hug.

“You’re welcome, dear.” She said to Crowley. Talking to both of them, “I was planning just eggs, sausage, and toast for breakfast, sound good? Please set the table for us, Ezira, and Crowley, no slacking for you either; grab glasses and fill them with orange juice.” Having the guys busy, she watched them together. She was shocked to see how they moved effortlessly together and seeing the little looks and soft smiles. “Huh,” she said out loud. 

“Did you say something, Tracy?” Ezira asked. It wouldn’t have been the first time he missed something she said due to being in his head. 

“Nothing, dear. Just thinking to myself.” She waved him away as she started cooking the sausages. Crowley and Ezira sat at the table while waiting for breakfast, playing speed. Crowley was always faster but Ezira tended to have the luck of having the right cards. They were equally matched. 

“No, no, NO!!!” Crowley yelled, throwing the last 3 cards at Ezira’s head. “Fuck you dude, you cheated!”

“I would never!” Ezira yelled back, “It’s not my fault you had shitty cards!”

“Is too! You dealt, asshole!” 

“Shut up, let’s go again, make it best out of three.” Ezira shuffled the cards a couple times handing the deck to Crowley where he shuffled them more. He set the game up and away they went. This one, Crowley won, only because Ezira got flustered with his last 5 cards. 

“Ha ha!!! See! Who got game!!” Crowley got really animated when they played cards, particularly this one; it was all about reflexes. 

“Alright you two, one last game and breakfast is ready. Make it count!” Tracy never said who she was rooting for, but she got excited for both of them. She never claimed to have a favorite. She sat a bit away from the table, because one time she had been hit in the face by Crowley trying to get a card down. He did the dishes and took the trash out for a week for her when he was hanging with Ezira. 

They were intensely playing, and the game was over in 2 minutes with Crowley as the winner. “BOOM! Hahaha!!!” he said, happy to have beaten Ezira. As he put the cards away Ezira when to the stove to make his and Crowley’s plate. 

“I saw you had the card that would have made you winner.” Tracy said quietly.

“It’s all about reflexes! I got flustered for a second!”

“Uh huh. Your secret is safe with me.” Tracy winked at Ezira and the three of them had a great breakfast. 

They were all talking excitedly about Labyrinth and other movies and musicians with hands flying everywhere, as Crowley talked with his hands when he was excited, when the side door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Fell came in. The lightness and happiness were sucked out of the room as if there were a massive vacuum while Tracy was moving to stand up quickly to address them.

“Good morning Mrs. Fell, Mr. Fell,” she said sounding warm and open, but Ezira knew better, anyone who knew her, knew she didn’t have tightness around her eyes. “Would you like some coffee or tea? I just got us a lovely morning tea.”

“No, Madam, I need to speak to Ezira alone. Take Anthony to the living room.” Mr. Fell said sharply.

“Dear, we just got back. Let’s wait until Anth-“Ezira’s mother tried to stop her husband.

“No. Now.”

“Come on, Crowley. Let’s see if you can sketch one of my favorite places just from hearing about it.” Tracy kindly but firmly walked Crowley out into the living room away from Ezira.

Once they were gone and out of earshot, Ezira’s father backhanded him across the face. “How dare you bring him into our house! He’s nothing and he’ll make you nothing as well!”

Ezira sat with his hands in his lap, he knew not to respond to the heated sting on his cheek. 

Ezira’s father looked down on him with so much disdain, Ezira knew his father hated him. “While your mother and I were at the convention, Mr. Sanzo was there, told us all about how you are struggling with the class. How are you supposed to get into a top school if you’re too stupid to do algebra?” Ezira remained looking down. “Answer me, Ezira.”

“Father, I am getting tutored by a fellow student who is a genus in mathematics.” Ezira looked at his father and quickly looked down again. 

“You better be, or you’ll work at church and become a man of God. College or God. That’s all you’ll get.” Mr. Fell made himself a cup of coffee, Mrs. Fell silently examining her manicure, “Now, you’ve already applied to the schools. I expect you to report when you hear back from them. God will lead you to the place you need to be; with your family. If you insist on not having a respectable girlfriend, could you at least make more desirable friends? Luke Hastur and Jacob Ligur are wonderful boys, you should try to become friends with them. Their families are influential; both young men are going to make it out there. What are you going to do, Ezira?”

Mr. Fell grabbed his face hard by the chin and leaned in close, noses almost touching. “You are a Fell. You are respected in this community as a member of the church and our great country.” He looked through Ezira, brown eyes looking at blue, “Get that trailer trash piece of shit out of my house.” He let go of Ezira’s face and walked towards his study. Ezira, never crying, never showing his fear, took a moment and looked at his mother. Her silence hurt more than his father’s words. She had a flash of empathy; a blink and you’ll miss it, moment of looking at her son, wishing this weren’t their life. Then, she forcefully pushed it down and walked away as well, making a plan to meet with the wives.

Once he knew he was in the clear, he took a deep breath and walked to the bathroom to see what damage his father did. There was a clear handprint and a small scratch from his father’s ring across his cheek. He took a bit of toilet paper and wet it with cold water, pressing it to his cheek for relief. He had to get out of this house. He would die here. He would die if this scared Crowley away. Without Crowley, he’d be truly alone. 

\------------

Ezira walked back to the living room, where Crowley was ash white. Apparently, the walls and doors were thinner than he had thought. Crowley jumped up when he saw Ezira and his red cheek. All awkwardness aside, Crowley gave Ezira a great bear hug, pulled away to inspect his cheek, carefully pulling Ezira’s face into his hands. 

“I’m so sorry, Angel. We heard it all.” Crowley’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “I’ll head out. Your father, he was so…” Crowley hugged Ezira again. Ezira hugged back as if Crowley was the only thing keeping him alive. He inhaled Crowley’s scent, something like cloves and pencils. Ezira willed himself not to cry, Crowley didn’t need to see that. 

“Please don’t go without me. It’s our weekend and we still have a day and a half and a night.” Crowley leaned back and placed a hand on Ezira’s sensitive red cheek. Ezira, without realizing it, leaned into Crowley’s chilled hand.

Keeping eye contact, he nodded, “Okay, where you wanna go?”

“Well, we need to print out applications for you.”

“Angel, no. We need to take care of you.”

“No. We need to get you out of this damn village and Mr. Bynum can go… fly a kite!” 

Tracy, who hadn’t spoken a word, piped up and said, “I’ll make you a bag of goodies and an overnight bag. Ezira, I don’t want you home tonight.” Tracy got up and smoothed her tunic down. “I have a little cabin I like to go to on vacation.” She wrote down the address and handed it to Crowley. “The key is under the frog by the front door. Make yourselves at home. No wild partying. There isn’t any cable but there is a DVD player, take some movies.” She patted Ezira’s arm as she headed to the kitchen. “Give me ten minutes and you can head out.”

“Thank you, Tracy.” Ezira said quietly. She gave him a soft smile, full of love, and walked quietly to the kitchen.

Everything packed and Crowley and Ezira in the car, headed to the library first. Despite Crowley wanting to take care of Ezira, Ezira was adamant about getting the applications printed and filled as soon as possible; if he understood anything, it was that opportunities only came once and Crowley had a real chance to thrive away from Tadfield. 

Quickly signing into a computer, they quietly spoke about which schools Crowley wanted to apply to. “Look Angel, my GPA sucks and my SATs even worse. I’m not going to get into anything worth trying for. I’ll just go to the Art Institution in Virginia Beach.”

“Crowley.” Ezira looked at him fondly, gazing into his eyes, fighting the urge to take his hand. “You are gifted. Your art is amazing, and I wish I could see things like you do.” Closing his eyes and taking a breath, he looked at Crowley again. “At least try. Get the portfolio out there and try. The world won’t know you if you don’t let it.” Ezira did take his hand this time and squeezed it. “Alright?”

Crowley was lost for words, so he nodded. He gave Ezira a bit of paper and a pencil and they listed the universities he was going to try. After two hours (one each since the library only allowed people to use the computers for an hour at a time), they had six different applications, including the DREAM school, CalARTS. Ezira printed that one even though Crowley told him it was a waste of the change that was charged for printing it. “I’m never getting in there, Ezira.”

“You never know, dear. Just try.” Ezira gathered the applications and they walked out into the chilly afternoon. They looked at the applications, and all but one needed ten different pieces expressing Crowley’s technical skill and interests. All his works were at his house and he knew Ezira wouldn’t let this go.

“OK. We need to go to my house.” Crowley looked like he’d rather go anywhere but there. “I, uh, I’ll drop you off first at Tracy’s place.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll go to yours first, pick out pieces and work on the applications at Tracy’s.”

“I just don’t want-“

“It’ll be fine, let’s go.”

“So fucking stubborn, a right bastard.”

“Well, as long as I’m right.” Ezira smirked at Crowley. Crowley just looked at Ezira and, not for the first time, wanted to kiss that bastardly smirk off his face.

\------------

As Crowley drove, Ezira realized he never went to Crowley’s before. Actually, he didn’t even know where Crowley lived. As they drove more into the village, Crowley didn’t give anything away, with the exception of his jaw working and being tense. Ezira noticed that they were in the “rough” part of the village. The rumors of the area were as morbid as the next; go to Pine Street and you’ll find drug dealers, Elm Street is the prostitutes, and Maple Avenue was where the crime bosses (if there were actual crime bosses in Tadfield) conducted business. The tree streets were the streets to avoid and Ezira has never been in this part of the village. Just as Crowley made a turn onto Bartlett Avenue, he started slowing down. Ezira exhaled a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, Bartlett wasn’t technically a tree street, just right next to them. The breath wasn’t missed by Crowley. “You know, you don’t have to be relieved. The rumors are mostly untrue about the tree streets.”

“I wasn’t, I didn’t think- “Ezira started to stamper.

“No, you thought what everyone else who never had to worry about their next meal or having heat or making rent thinks. You can’t help it.” Crowley sighed, feeling just a tad bad for snapping. “Both my parents work for our house and for us to eat and they work hard. They’re miserable. Not everyone around here are using section 8 housing and abusing the system for food stamps and drugs.” Crowley pulls into the driveway of a small but neat house.

“Crowley, I’m sorry.” Ezira said sadly. Ezira never felt more out of his place than he did right this moment. He knew that they were comfortable but just not as much. He had the realization that not everyone could have a Tracy in their home. 

Crowley sighed, “It’s okay.” He looked at Ezira and saw true remorse. Letting his mouth twitch up at the corners, “Mom’s working and Dad’s probably working a side gig, so it’ll just be us.” Crowley got out of the car and waiting for Ezira to meet him in front of the car. They walked to the door and Crowley unlocked it, holding the door open for Ezira. 

Ezira walked into a clean living room with older and used furniture. From the living room, there was a small bar separating it from the even smaller kitchen with mixed matched appliances and a table with 4 chairs, nothing matching but somehow working so it wasn’t awkward. Directly to the right of the front door was their dining room; a nice big family table and an ancient looking china cabinet with even more ancient china neatly set inside. To the side of the room was a computer desk and old chair sitting at it. There was a doorway on the opposite side of the room that was connected to the hallway. “Come on.” Crowley took Ezira’s hand without overthinking it and walked him to his room. Turning left at the couch in front of the bar, was the hallway to the bathroom and bedrooms. Pointing to the first door on the right, “Beez’ room”, the second on the right, “bathroom”, first doorway was the dining room. The door directly in front was a linen closet. Crowley pointed to the left, “Mom and Dad’s room and uh, this is mine.” He opened the last door on the right. 

Crowley’s room was everything Ezira’s wasn’t; sparse and organized. He had a double bed in the corner of the room up against the wall to make room for a L shaped computer desk with his computer on one side and art station, complete with a table easel, organized colored pencils, ink pins, granite and charcoal and a small cubicle with what looked like as brushes and paint, on the other. There was a dresser with a stereo on it and a small closet for “nice” clothes and storage. A couple prints of art, including a print of a penciled Mona Lisa and copy of Sando Botticelli’s Map of Hell. 

“Wow.” Ezira looked closely at the map. “That’s something. I don’t think I’d want to go there.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to either, though sometimes I think I am somewhere around… here.” He points at a spot on the map. “I feel like I am reporting to someone there, the, I don’t know, deeds of the day or something.” Ezira couldn’t make out which ring was which even though he was familiar with the Divine Comedy. Crowley looked at Ezira, eyes surprisingly open and vulnerable. “Ngk. Uh.” Crowley cleared his throat. “Here are the pieces I have that I’m willing to put in my portfolio.” He pulled out a huge portfolio with the originals. For each original, he had multiple printed copies of each. “And, um, here’s the rest of my pieces that are completed.” He pulled another folio of work out, a bit smaller, with an apprehensive look on his face. “No one has seen these except me, not even Mrs. Taylor.” He handed it to Ezira with their fingers brushing against one another a little longer than necessary, keeping eye contact. 

“Let’s look at the ones you’ve already approved, my dear. Then we can look at the other ones, if you want.” Ezira said quietly, looking up at Crowley through his eye lashes at the last moment.

“Yeah, alright, Angel.” Crowley’s mouth was terribly dry, and he was beyond nervous. He felt exposed and raw, every nerve sensitive and very much aware that Ezira was in his space and about to look into his brain through his art. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Alright, I’m ready.”

The process of going through his work took longer than Crowley expected; Ezira looking at all of his work with a critical eye and writing notes for the ones chosen for the written part of the applications. He asked questions about the technique used for each piece as well as an emotional insight of the inspiration. Ezira didn’t have to understand, per se, what was being told to him, but he felt it was important to have the excitement and love for it. 

They had eight pieces chosen from the acceptable portfolio. Ezira didn’t see anything that really grabbed him beyond the eight but did notice that Crowley was trying his damnedest to get out of looking at the other folio. So, as Ezira was the bastard Crowley knew he was, he dug his heels in and did not choose anything else from the first folio. “Crowley, the others in here are amazing, you know I think they are, Mrs. Taylor thinks they are, but you need something… more.”

“UGH!! I know, Angel.” Crowley ran his hands through his hair and down his face. He knew what was in the folio, he knew that it would make him lay all his cards out to Ezira. He knew… there was no way he’d be able to play off his feelings as just a “best friend, like a brother” once Ezira saw some of these pieces. He also knew Ezira would not open the folio without his permission despite already handing it to him. He took a chance and looked at Ezira again. He still had his glasses on, he had said that he usually took a break with his contacts over the weekends. His hair was its usual sticking up everywhere curly mess, but he was open and he looked at Crowley with something more than just “best friend”. OK. Ok. It’s going to be ok. Crowley thought to himself. The pieces that have him worried the most are towards the back of the folio anyways. There is a tiny bit of hope that he won’t get to them, but Crowley knew Ezira was a bastard… 

Ezira was still looking at him expectantly. Mentally prepared to lose his Angel, he nods, “Go ahead, Angel, you can look.” Ezira smiled at Crowley and opened the folio; it’s newer work. Ezira started pulling different pieces out for consideration. Smiling at some and giving a running commentary of how great they were. Crowley got up to look out his window to the back yard. Ezira is getting closer to the pieces. His heart is pounding at the sound of paper moving. More little comments of this one and that and then silence. Paper wasn’t moving. Crowley couldn’t hear anything beyond his heart pounding in his ears. 

Suddenly, he thought he heard Ezira whisper. Too scared to look at Ezira, he started to talk because nothing he could say could make things more uncomfortable. “I started sketching you in Mrs. Floyd’s class. I could see you clearly without having to move. Your eyes are the most perfect shape and the color was hard to get right. They change colors, did you know?” Still, Ezira hadn’t said a word. “I’ve noticed after a week or so, I think you were upset with something and they were more gray than blue and then they change with what you wear too. If you have a lot of green, they’re greener.” Crowley chewed his lip, “I thought you were beautiful. A perfect Angel with perfect eyes and lips.” Paper moved and Ezira was looking at the next piece, a charcoal piece from after he snuck into Ezira’s room. The shading showed the flush of Ezira’s cheeks while he had the fever. He also had the scar in that one. Crowley’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, he couldn’t see the yard anymore. Panicking inside, he didn’t hear Ezira move and walk to get closer to him.

“Anthony. Look at me.” Ezira said quietly but very close to Crowley’s ear. Hearing his first name from Ezira was probably the other thing that would have reached him in his panic. Crowley turns around and finally raised his eyes to Ezira’s. Whatever Crowley thought he was going to see; it wasn’t what he saw. Ezira was looking at him as if he hung the stars. Ezira raised a shaky hand to Crowley’s cheek and cupped it slowly. “How long? How long until we met were you sketching me?”

“Uh” Crowley’s throat was so dry, he had to swallow a couple times, “I started the first week of school.” 

“Oh, almost three months?”

“Um, yeah.” Crowley started to breathe harder in panic. “I’m not a creep, Angel, I promise.”

“What? No. No, you’re not.” Ezira places his other hand on the other cheek. “You’re amazing.” He looked Crowley in the eyes, Blue to Honey. He pulled Crowley closer to him slowly and both closed their eyes. When they were less than an inch away from one another, the front door of the house opened. 

“Anthony!? There’s groceries in the car, go get them.” His mom hollered through the house.

“Shit!” They both jumped at Crowley’s mom voice. They looked at one another and Crowley stepped away, blushing. “'kay mom!” Ezira started to giggle, more out of nerves than anything else. “Shut up!” Crowley snapped at Ezira. “Here,” Crowley handed Ezira an empty folio. “Put the ones we picked and whatever you wanted to consider from the new ones together. I’ll get the groceries and we’ll head to Tracy’s.” 

“Alright.”

“And be prepared for twenty questions from mom, I haven’t brought a friend home since elementary school.”

“Seriously?” Ezira asked, shocked.

“Yeah.” Crowley headed out the door, not looking back at Ezira.

\------------

After getting the groceries into the house for his mom and safely getting Ezira out of the house after playing twenty questions with his mom, they were on the way to Tracy’s. Crowley’s mom was actually rather cool, Ezira thought. She was friendly and warm and completely opposite from his own mother. Crowley and his mom had a good banter between them and for a moment, Ezira couldn’t understand why he wanted to get out so badly. As he thought more though, he came to the conclusion that not everything is as it seems and who knows what happens when there is no one around… it was a damn shame. Ezira took a fortifying breath and reached for Crowley’s hand and took it. Crowley glanced at their hands and after a brief moment, laced their fingers together and held hands until they got to the cabin.

The cabin was SO Tracy. There were crystals and handmade windchimes at the front of it and when they walked in, it was warm and cozy. Getting to the island that was in the kitchen area, there was a note from Tracy’s partner, Sergeant Shadwell. The heat was turned on and to remember to turn it down when they leave, make themselves at home, food is fresh, and Tracy cooked it, so it was edible. Sergeant Shadwell was an odd man, but Tracy was an odd woman, so it worked for them. They opened the fridge to pot roast and veggies, some fresh fruit salad and all the treats she got for them for last night. On the counter was popcorn, Crowley’s favorite soda and cereal for breakfast.

“Well, that’s friendly.” Crowley said kindly. He grabbed his and Ezira’s bag to put it in the bedroom because of course, there was only one. Ezira took the folio and applications and put them on the table. Ezira was nervous. Of course, he was, he almost kissed Crowley and wanted to kiss him still. Crowley had walked to the bedroom and was heading back, walking his usual walk with his hands in his pockets, his coat draped over his wrist. 

Ezira realized he hadn’t said anything since leaving Crowley’s house. He cleared his throat and walked to Crowley. Taking Crowley’s hand again with his left hand and putting his right hand on his cheek, Ezira gave a little smile. “There is something I want to do before we get back to getting your portfolio together.” Crowley started shivering with nerves and want. Mindlessly he licked his lips, asking, “And what’s that, Angel?”

Ezira pulled Crowley in by his hand and leaned in, taking a moment to breathe in Crowley’s scent of cloves and pencils. Smiling softly, he placed a sweet kiss on Crowley’s silk smooth lips. Crowley returned the kiss immediately and enthusiastically. They stayed there, kissing for a long while standing by the table; they both forgot about any work they were going to do. Once they pulled away from one another, they smiled. Then, they laughed, both pulling at one another for more kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No song on this chapter... I wanted to squeeze one in but there were no good spots or it was the wrong type for the wrong person! 
> 
> For example, Ezira hearing "Runway" by Linking Park and Crowley hearing "I Get Weak" by Belinda Carlisle. 
> 
> So... you tell me!
> 
> Do y'all want a present chapter next or a past? Both isn't an answer! 😏😉
> 
> XOXO


	7. Never Forget my Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Applications filled and Seeing each other twenty years later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!! I wasn't planning to post this weekend, I had an exam on Saturday and frankly, was way too focused on that. But our guys needed to see each other!!
> 
> A Warning, We get our rating in this chapter! I did make a break though if you want to skip it. It starts right after "Crowley, looking a bit pink around the edges..." sentence. Then it's over and you can start up at the Twenty years later part.
> 
> 😘😍😏

Kissing. It’s just two lips pressing together, but it’s so much more. Crowley and Ezira continued to kiss until they needed air but when they stopped, they moved just far enough to catch their breath, and they continued to touch something on each other; a hand, an arm, something. They laughed and giggled and rubbed noses against each other, hugged and smoothed hands down each other’s back. They’d probably stay there forever… until Ezira’s stomach growled loudly.

Ezira blushed and laughed, “Oh dear, I think I’m a tad hungry.” He leaned in for a chaste kiss. 

“Mmm, yeah, I’d say so Angel. Let’s have some dinner and then we can get comfy.” Crowley looked around and saw a comfortable looking couch with a TV and DVD player in front of it. He rested his head into Ezira’s shoulder. 

“Well, after we eat, then it’s business, yes? Then we relax.” Ezira wasn’t going to let go of Crowley’s dream, even if Crowley was otherwise distracted.

Crowley stood straight up at that and looked at Ezira with a strange look. “Okay.” He took a clearing breath and stepped away from Ezira. “That pot roast looked amazing” Crowley said, walking to the kitchen area. 

Ezira followed and soon they had warm plates filled with roast, potatoes, carrots, onions and peas. Ezira was adamite about having a “green”; something about the more colors, the better. Crowley just agreed to agree, peas were not a favorite but if he ate them first then everything else would cover the peas. Getting a glass of sweet tea and moving the folios, they ate at the table, sitting closer than they had ever before and talking about everything and nothing. It seemed that the kissing enhanced their friendship rather than making it feel strained. After eating and getting the dishes cleaned and, in the rack, Ezira washed his hands and dried them carefully as to not damage the art pieces. They set up on the floor to get the pieces Crowley planned to use organized, and with Ezira separating the applications for each school. Eight were already chosen and now Ezira was looking at the new pieces. Even someone who wasn’t an artsy person could see the technical work improving over time and the completed works that Crowley did of Ezira had an extra layer of something that made you feel like you were punched in the gut. They were powerful. 

They worked together to get the pieces just right and the final ten ended up being an equal balance of new and old… after a bit of debate and Ezira’s extra colors of self-consciousness showing, Crowley put the two best of Ezira in the portfolio. “Angel, if I get into any of these places, it is because of you. You need to be in the collection.” Crowley said, while holding Ezira’s hand. Ezira looked at Crowley from across the pieces with soft eyes and a tender smile. “Alright, dearest.” Crowley raised Ezira’s hand to his cheek and held it against him while he pressed his cheek firmly into the hand. After a moment, he gathered the other pieces to put away while Ezira started looking at them critically to start writing the essay; it seemed a bit more difficult than the ones he did for his applications, as they wanted 500 words, not 250. 

Before starting the writing process, he and Crowley tended to themselves, using the restroom and getting a drink and snack. Not sure on how long this was going to take, Ezira took out his contacts and switched to glasses, they were easier on his eyes and it had been a long, emotional roller coaster of a day. Walking out of the restroom to get back to the table where his pencil and paper, he paused a minute to watch Crowley. Crowley had a sketch book and graphite in his hands, drawing. His face was relaxed, and eyes looked slightly out of focus while his hand moved effortlessly across the paper. He must have felt as though he was being watched as he stopped working and looked around to Ezira. Crowley softly hitched his breath, Ezira was beautiful in his comfortable pajama bottoms and white t-shirt, not to mention the sexy professor look he was sporting in his glasses. Crowley felt he could worship him for hours. He didn’t do the church thing, God wasn’t there for him, but he could start a whole religion of just worshiping Ezira.

Eriza started walking to the table again and purposely sat across from Crowley. He started to feel self-conscious with Crowley staring. “Do I have something on my face?” Ezira brushed his face and edges of his lips. 

“No.” Crowley blinked himself back into the moment. “You’re just beautiful.”

“Oh, um,” Ezira blushed, “Thank you.”

Crowley rubbed his socked foot against Ezira’s and took a few deep cleansing breaths, closing his eyes. When he opened them, Ezira noticed the focus in them. Ezira, smiling, thought to himself, all right. Game face on. They collaborated together until Crowley had the perfect 500-word essay to support his inspiration, technical abilities and goals. 

All in all, Crowley applied to six different schools but Ezira had one more for him, the DREAM school, California Institute of the Arts.

“Ezira, I’m not even going to try.” Crowley said through a mouth full of tortilla chips and salsa. “Even if I did, how am I going to get there, fly?”

“Look, just try, it couldn’t hurt and everyone worth anything has said to try even for the big dreams. You never know.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Why not!?”

“Because I am not worth it! I just want to do art, but I am not good enough or rich enough or smart enough to even TRY! I’m no one!” Crowley shouted at Ezira.

“Dammit, Crowley! Just because you don’t believe you could get in doesn’t mean I don’t! Just sign the fucking application and I’ll fill the damn thing out!” Ezira shouted back. “You’re fucking brilliant! Just do it!”

Crowley just stared and blinked. “You cursed four times.” Crowley blinked again. “Okay.” He took the application and not just signed it but filled it out; essay and all. “Well, I now know I will never forget my name… signed it enough tonight?” Ezira put it in an envelope with all the other items needed and sealed it up, placing it on the top of the other six. 

“All right! I say job well done; we just have to mail them out Monday.” Ezira stretched high over his shoulders and twisted. He got up to get a refill of his drink and Crowley grabbed his wrist. Looking up to Ezira, Crowley said softly, “thank you.” Ezira carded his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “You’re welcome. I- “Ezira stopped himself for saying the Big Three Words. “I believe in you.” He looked into Crowley’s honey eyes and felt his heart start beating faster. Clearing his throat, he walked to the fridge. While looking in the fridge he took a breath: he wanted Crowley. He had never felt this way for anyone, ever, and wasn’t sure what to do. A bit lost, he took the tea out and refilled his glass and placed it back in the fridge. “Uh. I am actually kind of tired. I think I want to go to bed.” It wasn’t a lie; it was almost midnight. “You can stay up if you like.”

“No, I’m tired too.” Crowley got up and stretched, a sliver of skin around his torso popped below his shirt. Ezira’s pelvis hummed in a new way he never felt before. Seeing Ezira’s face, Crowley grew unsure. “Uh, did you want me to sleep on the couch? I can give you some space.” 

“No!” Ezira said quickly. Turning a new shade of pink, he said softer, “No, please. Stay with me?”

Crowley, looking a bit pink around the edges himself, said softly, “Sure, of course.” 

\------------------

They walked together to the bedroom and Ezira closed the door. It was quiet. Crowley would swear on his abilities as an artist that Ezira could hear his heartbeat. Crowley went to the side of the bed he liked and Ezira followed suit on his side. Once comfortable, Ezira turned off the light and snuggled down into the unfamiliar scent of Tracy’s blankets. Rolling over to face Crowley, he got a whiff of his scent and it sent his heart racing. Trying to breathe like a regular human was difficult; he just wanted to reach out and touch Crowley. 

Crowley was lying on his back fighting with himself while looking up, the room was so dark he couldn’t see anything. He wanted to reach out to Ezira, he did make the first move for their first kiss (just a few hours ago!!!) He could almost guarantee that Ezira wouldn’t push him away and sometimes things are easier in the dark…

Fuck it, Crowley thought, and rolled to face Ezira. He couldn’t see a thing, but he could hear and feel. He heard Ezira’s breathing pick up a little, he could feel his body heat and soft breath on his face. Crowley raised his hand and carefully placed it on Ezira’s cheek. He rubbed the apple of his cheek with his thumb. Almost talking to himself, he said softly, “So soft.” He subconsciously scooted closer. Ezira’s breathing quickened even more and, though Crowley couldn’t see it, Ezira’s lips parted. 

Ezira licked his lips and in a rough, low voice he whispered Crowley’s name. Crowley shivered, not from the cold but something else. Something he couldn’t articulate. He never could remember who did what or how, but one second he had his hand on Ezira’s cheek and the next Ezira was lying partially on him, kissing his with all his being. Crowley ran his hand over Ezira’s back and then dragged down the soft but strong back with his nails. Ezira moaned softly into Crowley’s mouth and in that moment, Crowley grew hard in his pajama bottoms. Having a distracted and rather embarrassing moment, Crowley pulled back from the kiss to get a breath of air. Ezira, not skipping a beat, started kissing Crowley’s jaw and then down his neck, finding a tender sensitive spot right below the ear. Crowley let out a moan of his own and grabbed Ezira’s hair to hold him in place. Ezira just moaned louder and pulled Crowley closer, being freed enough to kiss farther down to Crowley’s collar bone. Crowley forgot about being distracted or embarrassed or what his body was doing when Ezira thrust his pelvis into Crowley’s thigh. Crowley felt the girth and length of Ezira through both of their pajama bottoms and without a thought lifted his leg ever so slightly to grind against Ezira again, he needed to hear him again. Ezira pressed down Crowley’s thigh and moaned into Crowley’s neck. 

A split second later, Ezira was pulling Crowley up by the hand, kissing him harder and more desperately. Crowley moved his hands under Ezira’s shirt and lifted it off, kissing Ezira’s chest as soon as he possibly could. Ezira groped in the dark for Crowley’s shirt and pulled it off quickly now having more access to Crowley’s sharp angles and smooth skin. Crowley had the fleeting thought that he wished he could see what was happening. He wanted to see Ezira’s blush and shining eyes and pale skin and his nipples… what color were they anyway? But when he felt Ezira softly run his hands on his torso and up his back, he forgot what he was thinking about all over again. He found Ezira’s lips and kissed him more, softer now, and trying to remember the sensations of skin and lips and hands and hardness. Feeling brave in the dark, Crowley moved Ezira to his back and lay on top of him, kissing and groping and not quite sure of things, but grazing a hand over a nipple. Ezira arched his back in the shiver it caused. Taking it as a good sign, he found the other with his mouth and gave a lick… Ezira moaned his name. Crowley was flying high and moved himself between Ezira’s legs. He thrust onto Ezira, rubbing himself on Ezira with shock at how good it felt. 

Ezira blindly moved his hand to feel Crowley. They still had their pajama bottoms on, but the thin fabric did nothing to hide themselves from one another. Reaching between them, he tentatively touched Crowley’s length, and brushed against his own. They moaned together, simultaneously pressing harder into one another. Moving his hand back from in between them, Ezira grabbed onto the nape of Crowley’s neck and pulled him down to kiss him. “Oh, Crowley.” Ezira whispered like a prayer in Crowley’s ear. Crow rutted more onto Ezira, managing to rub against Ezira’s member, causing both to tremble in each other’s arm. Ezira thrusting up to Crowley while Crowley pressing down, they found a rhythm that had them both shaking. 

The warm sensation grew as they moved more frantically chasing the build up between them. A symphony of moans and groans ebbed and flowed while Crowley rutted into Ezira. Ezira kissed and licked and nipped everything he could reach of Crowley, thrusting to meet Crowley for every press. “Crowley” Ezira whispered. “I’m… I think I’m… Oh, oh Crowley.” He thrust harder and had his first orgasm, ever. He rode the shock and spurts as Crowley felt every movement and shiver with a slight, warm, dampness on his lower abdomen. Crowley followed Ezira’s orgasm a rut or two after with Ezira’s name on his lips. It was as if Crowley was praying to Someone. Ezira was like a puddle of goo, he couldn’t stop shaking and rode the high of his orgasm coupled with Crowley’s against him. Crowley kissed him again through the aftershocks and tremors. “I love you.”

Ezira reached for the lamp, turning it on with a shaky hand, blinding them both for a good second. Through panting of his own, he blinked to get his vison back. Crowley, feeling insecure and embarrassed for saying it out loud, started to try to get off of Ezira but Ezira was having none of that, and held him closer. “Oh, my darling,” he pushed Crowley’s hair off his face, holding it away with his still-trembling hand. Placing his other hand on Crowley’s cheek, Ezira looked into his honey eyes, “I love you, Anthony.” Crowley closed his eyes with a sob and leaned back down to kiss Ezira. They got comfortable in each other’s arms, tension and worry gone and drifted off to sleep together.

\----------------------------------------------------

Twenty Years later…

Ezira still smells the same. Crowley thought to himself with arms full of Angel. He feels a bit more solid, and if he has the same love of food, it’s totally understandable. Ezira’s broad, strong shoulders and back feel the same and his voice sounds the same. Crowley closes his eyes and has a flashback of darkness and moans; he quickly opens them back. Helping Ezira stand up straight, he takes a step back and looks at his Angel properly. 

“Hi.” Crowley smiles wholly and openly.

Ezira is a mirror, smiling like Crowley himself made the universe. “Hi.” They look at one another and start to laugh. Ezira hugs Crowley hard again. “Not exactly where I wanted to see you again, but there is some irony in meeting in the bathroom, of all places.”

“Yeah, I saw Hastur follow you in and I wanted to make sure you were ok. You are ok, right?” Crowley’s excitement breaking for a moment with concern. 

“Oh, yes, of course. He was actually apologizing for everything back in high school, if you could believe it. Something about being miserable back then and having to deal with his own stuff to realize it.” Ezira smooths out his clothes and straightens his bow tie. Crowley watches his hands move wishing he was straightening him up instead. 

“Oh! I was waiting to tell you what I saw! Hastur and Ligur are together! Like, couple together!” Crowley smacks himself on the forehead. 

“What! You can’t be serious!”

“Yeah! Seriously, Angel! I watched them come in together! Holding hands and kissing!”

Ezira leans on the wall opposite Crowley. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” Crowley says cheekily.

Ezira tuts, “Yeah, yeah, ok” and smiles at Crowley, this time with something other than excitement and happiness, something a little softer around the edges. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

Crowley clears his throat, “Yeah, it’s great to see you too.” He glances around as if he is just remembering that they are in a bathroom. “Let’s go get a glass of something and a bite. I’m all of a sudden really thirsty.” Ezira chuckles at that and follows Crowley out of the bathroom.

They find their way to Ezira’s spot, and luckily nothing was moved or taken. Crowley makes a quick wine order and gets Ezira a fresh glass while Ezira makes them both a plate of food from the buffet. Walking back to their seat, Ezira has a moment; it feels like no time has passed and this is just another day twenty years ago in a school cafeteria. Shaking his head clear, he sits down next to Crowley, handing him a plate. “I hope your eating habits haven’t changed too much.” Crowley looks at the plate handed to him and it is perfect, right down to the space in between each food item… he hates his food touching.

“No, it’s perfect.”

“Oh good, I’m glad.” Ezira takes a rather big sip of wine. “So, how have you been?” he starts easily enough. 

As the evening goes on, Crowley and Ezira start catching up, sticking to the easy, shallow end of light conversation that adults tend to do. As much as Crowley hates small talk, he isn’t annoyed with it with Ezira, he wants to know the details of Ezira’s life. Ezira, in kind, wants to know Crowley’s too. They spend time showing pictures of their homes and area where they live, both taking notice that neither have a partner. Ezira shows a picture of Anathema and her partner Newt and the work they do. He did make it a point to show Newt, He didn’t want Crowley to think se and he, or he and Newt for that matter, were an item. 

“So, Doctor Fell!“ Crowley had switched to water hours ago but is still feeling cheeky. “What are you a doctor of anyways?”

Ezira, whose cheeks were a bit redder than they would usually be, says, “Well, religious studies, actually.” Taking a sip of his own ice water, he continues, “I wanted to make sense of my father’s hatred. He passed away while I was in college and we never made up. I ended up finding… something… in my studies.” He looks into his glass, wishing he could be a real angel and miracle himself more wine. “But never what I was truly looking for… Like that U2 song!” he ends brightly. “Oh, you know! “But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”” He muses to himself for a second on how true that really is. 

Crowley smiles at Ezira but is grateful for his glasses. If Ezira could see, he’d see Crowley’s sadness for Ezira that he never found what he was looking for. Ezira changes the subject quickly to Crowley’s art. 

“Yeah, I am still doing art of course, but for video games. I created everything for the Armageddon series and then the Creation spin-off for mobile. I still do some original stuff, but the money is mostly from the games. Where do you live nowadays?” Ezira explains that he lives on the beach in the Outer Banks, while Crowley talks about his plants and condo in Portland, Maine. 

“Oh dear! Out of all the places, why Maine? Aren’t you freezing up there in the winter or have you finally figured out how to stay warm?“ Ezira says warmly. For some reason, it makes Crowley want to blush.

“Well, there is technology to keep us humans warm, you know.”

“Yes, of course.” Ezira smiles. He looks at the time and it is closing time for the restaurant. He panics, he hasn’t had enough time with Crowley! Sending a quick wish to the cosmos that Crowley is sharing the same thought, he asks, “How long are you here for, my dear?” Ezira touches Crowley’s arm and Crowley just wants to hold his hand. 

“Ngk, for a week. I’m staying at the inn. Beez didn’t have room for me so I took the penthouse.”

“Oh! Well, I bet it’s lovely.”

“Yeah it’s not bad. How about you? How long are you here for?” Crowley asks nervously. He needs more time.

“Oh, I’m here a week as well, staying at the old cottage.”

“What?! On purpose?!?”

“Yes, why not? It’s mine now since mother gave it to me when she left, though, I still feel odd sleeping in the master bedroom instead of my room.”

“Well I can understand that.” Crowley says. “Uh, would you like to hang out tomorrow? I don’t have anything going on and Beez is working.”

“That’d be wonderful.” Ezira smiles brightly. “Want to come over in the morning? I am usually up by 7 so anytime you like.”

“Alright! Great!” Crowley and Ezira walk back outside to their cars. Crowley hugs Ezira in a tight embrace. Reluctant to let go he says, “I’m so happy you were here, Angel.” Crowley lets go and steps away, “here is my number. It’s a cell so you can text me any time.“ Crowley hands Ezira a slip of paper. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, my dear, me too.” He looks at Crowley, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ezira unlocks his car to get in and pauses a moment. He gets into his car and before turning the ignition, he pulls out his cell and texts someone. Crowley’s phone vibrates in his too tight pockets. “there, now you have my number.” Ezira turns his ignition then and forgot that he had his radio loud when he pulled in hours ago. The song “Tracie” by Level 42 sings out,

“Tracie, where are you now girl  
I don`t know why this feeling`s so strong  
Tracie, where have you been  
You know there`s no one now to tell us we`re wrong”

And Ezira promptly turns an impressive shade of scarlet; a color Crowley hasn’t seen in 20 years. He turns the radio off with a press of a button wishing (again to the cosmos) that Crowley didn’t notice the song. Of course, he did because of Ezira’s reaction, so he plans to look up Tracy by Level 42 when he gets back to the inn.

Ezira nods to Crowley and leaves the parking lot. Crowley stands there watching his taillights until he turns on the road that leads him home. 

Crowley is… happy. Ezira looks good and the feelings from his teen years haven’t changed a bit with the exception of a life lived for 20 years. Ezira is still beautiful with his eyes twinkling and how animated he gets when talking and eating. Yeah, he’s happy. Right? He realizes that they didn’t actually talk, they stayed safe with small talk and superficial shit. Maybe once back together, alone, they can actually talk. Walking to his own car, he pulls out his phone to call Beez; he promised to call them when the reunion was over.

“Hey big brother. How’s Ezira?” Beez isn’t one to beat around the bush.

“Ezira is beautiful and bright and seems like how he always was.” Crowley putting Beez on Bluetooth to have his hands free, pulls out of the restaurant parking lot. 

“Uh huh, so why do you sound like someone peed in your corn flakes?” Again, Beez just yanks that Band-Aid off. 

“I don’t know.” Crowley rests his head on the steering wheel. “It was so…” Crowley couldn’t find the word. “It was so… shallow!” Crowley shouts.

“Well, come on, what did you expect? A monologue of lost love and apologies? Something out of a damn Shakespearian play?” Beez being the voice of reason is a bit much for Crowley. 

“Well, no!” Crowley says automatically because hearing it that way made it sound ridiculous… but… he did want a little of that from Ezira.

“Right. Well, I think you’re lying to me and to yourself. Are you going to see him again or head back north? I’ll kick your ass if you leave now, we still have the barbeque to do.” Beez knows just what to say.

“I’m not leaving for another six days, alright? Yes, since you’re working tomorrow, we planned to hang out.” Crowley says.

“Alright cool. Look, tomorrow, just relax. It’s Ezira. Your best friend who broke your hear-”

Crowley, thinking what the fuck, actually says, “What the fuck!? No pressure, right?”

“Nah, none whatsoever.” 

“UGH!!! You’re no help. Good night, asshole.”

Beez chuckles, “Good night Ant.”

Crowley hangs up and gets to the inn shortly after. He manages to unlock his door and remove his jacket and places his keys and wallet on the desk. Not quite sure what to do with himself, he grabs his MacBook and opens it. After using his finger to unlock it, he pulls up Safari and looks for Tracy by Level 42. Well, the song is Tracie, not Tracy but it still comes up. Reading the lyrics, he thanks Someone that Ezira is apparently the same when it comes to music, he listens to whatever is reflective to his situation or feeling. For the first time since leaving Portland, Crowley has a real sense of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! The split Chapter is a warm thank you to Lto4, they actually said words and not emojis last chapter 😘 I hope this was good for you!
> 
> "Tracie" is one of my less favorite Level 42 songs but I thought it fit nicely with the chapter. Ezira is like me, I do listen to things that reflect my state of mind or situation I'm in. I love, absolutely LOVE U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For." 
> 
> Next chapter is going to be a past chapter... and we'll be seeing the beginning of the break. I love y'all!


	8. All for the Love of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life after the weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I am a day late but the boys were being buttheads and not corroborating. 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful betas!! @raechem and @cherubino I like to think @raechem doesn't have to bleed so much anymore while making sure all my commas are there 😘

Ezira was the first to wake to rain tattooing the window above the head of the bed in a relaxing almost meditative way. His arm holding Crowley into his chest, he had flashbacks of sensations and sounds from the night before. They had… sex? Was what they did even considered sex? It felt like it could have been sex, but doesn’t that require skin actually touching? They were touching now though, Crowley’s head on Ezira’s shoulder, hand resting on his chest and a leg thrown across Ezira’s, everything was perfect. This peaceful moment was everything. Ezira was in love… and holy shit, how was this even possible, he thought. This was not supposed to happen, not at all. Ezira, lost in his panicked thoughts ran his hand through Crowley’s thick red locks. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did… and they won’t start hearing back from colleges for at least a few months. He could have a few months of this, right? 

Crowley was definitely getting into an art school, Ezira had no doubt about it and he knew that he was going to be getting into an Ivy League school as well, between his SATs scores and father’s influence, he was getting in somewhere. Once out of Tadfield, this all would be a memory and Crowley would be successful and so would he. Yes, he could have a few months of bliss with his best friend who he happened to be in love with. He should tell Crowley now that they can only do this for so long, that his next chapter was already written by his father and that he hated it. He wanted his freedom, he wanted to have his next chapter not be what someone else wanted but what he wanted, and he wanted Crowley to be part of it.

Ezira sighed, he realized he got himself all wrapped up in future anxieties and hated himself for the way he could stress out on things that weren’t even happening yet. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the sounds and sensations again from last night. Everything was so intense; so hot and hard and wet and lovely. He wondered what it’d be like to kiss and touch Crowley in the daylight, would seeing him change anything? Ezira moved his head up and gave a small kiss to the top of Crowley’s head. He let his nose stay in his hair, smelling the clove scent of Crowley and a slight under current of Crowley’s natural scent. It was a heady mix that made Ezira’s pelvis feel heavy and tingly. 

As he continued to follow his overthinking tangents, he wondered about how he was so responsive to Crowley; from his smile to his scent, to the way his body moved and the sounds he made in the night. He was never responsive to anyone or anything. He did get butterflies back a couple years ago with Mr. Ryan, his American history teacher; he had the most perfect hands. Ezira daydreamed about holding his hand for almost the whole year until he found out Mr. Ryan had a fiancé; she was very kind if not a tad… dense. Once he knew Mr. Ryan liked people who were not that intelligent the appeal was gone, and he never felt anything for anyone else. Then came Crowley, saving him and looking at him with kindness with those honey colored eyes and he felt a stir… the stir turned flutters of butterfly wings to heavy flaps of dragon wings to desire. It was mind boggling. He figured a while back that perhaps he was asexual. Well, obviously not, maybe he was just Crowleysexual? Could you be only attracted to one person, how does that even work? None the less, he was growing hard while he thought of the fiery red head lying across his chest.

At that moment, Crowley started to wake up. His hand stretched across Ezira’s chest and he moved his head, rubbing his face against Ezira’s pec, humming in contentment. As if he just remembered where he was, Crowley froze. Eriza looked down at Crowley with a smirk and paused a moment, curious to see what Crowley would do. When Crowley hadn’t moved again and seemingly stopped breathing, Ezira ran his fingers through his hair again. “Good morning, my love.” He said softly. Crowley immediately relaxed, right down to his toes and kissed the pec his cheek was on.

“Mmm, good morning Angel.” He said against the soft skin he was on. “I was thinking I had an amazing dream last night.” He smoothed his hand on the other side of Ezira’s chest while giving lazy, sweet kisses on the side he was on. “But I’m thinkin’ it wasn’t a dream.” He looked up at Ezira, looking into his eyes. “I love you.” Ezira put a hand on Crowley’s cheek, rubbing his thumb on Crowley’s lower lip.

“I love you too, darling.” He leaned down and gave Crowley what was supposed to be a chaste soft kiss but transformed into something that was far from chaste but remained soft. Oh, this was way better than in the dark. Humming softly, Ezira pulled away from Crowley only because he needed to use the bathroom. “I need to use the bathroom, be right back.” Crowley moved off of Ezira and let him slip out of the bed. 

Crowley stretched out properly, taking a minute to feel his body. He’d had an orgasm before, loads of times. He was quite familiar with his own anatomy. However, he had never felt that before. To say it was life altering was an understatement. He knew that he would follow Ezira to the end of the world, to the end of the universe if need be. He needed to get out of Tadfield but… maybe they could get out together? He didn’t know where Ezira applied to yet, but knowing how his father was, Crowley was almost positive that he applied to only Ivy League schools, and if that was the case, a few of his schools were in the same area, with the exception of Cal Arts… but he wasn’t getting in there so no worries. He decided right then, he wasn’t going to worry about any of it until the letters started coming in. 

Ezira came back, looking beautiful and refreshed, with his glasses on. “All yours darling.” He said with a wiggle back into the bed. “I’ll keep the bed warm” Ezira was definitely in a good mood and rather feisty this morning; Crowley loved it. After using the restroom and brushing his teeth for good measure, Crowley padded back to the bed where Ezira lay, glasses off and eyes shut, with a small smile on his face and listening to the rain. He heard Crowley quietly walk to his side of the bed and his smile grew larger. “Come cuddle?” Ezira lifted the blankets to let Crowley slide in next to him and rolled over to lie on Crowley. Ezira snuggled in and released a sigh he didn’t realize he had been holding. Ezira lightly grazed his hand on Crowley’s chest and down his abdomen. “You’re so smooth.” His hand moved up again. “So soft.” Crowley shivered at his touch. Ezira rested his arm solidly around Crowley and kissed his shoulder, then his lips. Scooting to get comfortable, he asked, “What do you want to do today? I’m not going home until dinner, Tracy’s orders. When did you need to get Beez?” He nuzzled his nose into Crowley’s neck.

Crowley chuckled as he got goosebumps, “I’d stay here forever if I could. I got to get Beez at seven, so I have all day.” Ezira kissed Crowley’s neck, this time getting a moan out of Crowley. Ezira continued his kisses and after a minute, Crowley rolled towards Ezira making Ezira kiss his lips. Just as they were getting hot and heavy, Ezira’s stomach rumbled, breaking the spell he was weaving. Crowley laughed, “What is it with your stomach interrupting us, Angel?” Ezira blushed and tried to hide his face under the blankets.

“It’s not my fault!” He laughed. He took the opportunity while under the blankets to nip and lick Crowley’s nipple since it was just right there. Crowley arched his back and pressed Ezira’s face to his chest.

“Ezira!” Crowley moaned, “If you want to have some breakfast, you’re gonna have to stop.” Even as he said it, Crowley really did not want Ezira to want to eat yet. 

“Well, who said anything about breakfast, my dear” Ezira said muffled from under the covers. He moved to the other nipple and teased it to a pebble. Crowley moved his hand to under the blankets and placed his hand in Ezira’s hair, scratching his scalp slightly. Ezira moaned into Crowley’s chest. “I’m quite happy under here, I think I’ll stay a while.” At that, Crowley lifted the covers to see Ezira start to kiss down his torso.

“Ngk, Oh!” Crowley threw his head back and closed his eyes. He ran his hands in Ezira’s hair trying to feel him with his hands, to stay connected. Ezira stayed under the covers for quite a while, showing Crowley what it was like to be worshiped with a very enthusiastic, if not experienced, mouth and tongue.

\--------------------

After the weekend with his now boyfriend (boyfriend!!!) Ezira was walking on air. The world was a little brighter; a little more colorful. Once home Sunday night, with his parents still out and Madam Tracy smiling knowingly, he walked up to his room and got ready for the week; double-checking his homework to make sure it was completed and picked out his clothes. For the first time in his life, he cared about how he looked. He knew he’d see Crowley at least a couple of times and wanted to look nice for him. Once settled, he showered and got comfortable for the evening, signing into AOL to see if Crowley was on. He wasn’t, so he grabbed a book and lounged on his bed to read. He couldn’t focus though; flashes of the weekend invaded his mind. Crowley’s beautiful artwork, his words, the feelings and responsiveness between them… it was all just so much. Ezira softly touched the spot on his collarbone where Crowley left a love bite that was still a bit tender to touch. Something warm pooled at the base of his spine, making everything buzz with wanting. Before he started analyzing what his body was feeling, AOL instant messenger popped up.

CDevil007: Hey Angel =) I was hoping you’d be on.  
WildePoohBear: Hi my darling =) I was hoping you’d come on.   
WildePoohBear: Was Beez ok? Did she have a good weekend?  
CDevil007: Yeah, from the sounds it was interesting.  
WildePoohBear: Interesting? That rather ominous…  
CDevil007: Yeah. Beez and I talked. That’s why I haven’t been on. She doesn’t feel like a girl. Though Dagon and she are an item now, I think? Beez says she doesn’t feel like a girl but not a boy either. It’s a bit confusing really.  
WildePoohBear: Did you know that in some cultures there’s a third gender? An “other” gender? The Navajo have nádleehí. Two spirits. Maybe Beez is one of them.  
CDevil007: I didn’t know that. That actually helps me feel better, Angel. I’ll tell THEM about it and maybe it’ll help? I don’t want to pass this off as a phase, Mom and Dad think everything that’s not straight and “normal” is wrong. I don’t want Beez to have to deal with something like this alone.   
WildePoohBear: Wait, your parents don’t know you’re gay?  
CDevil007: Technically no. I never told them, but I don’t think they’d notice anyway. They never ask about girlfriends, or boyfriends for that matter. We’ve never talked about it.  
WildePoohBear: Oh! Well, that makes sense. My parents just think I’m not interested in anyone. I honestly thought that too until I met you.  
CDevil007: I’m fucking ecstatic that you’re interested in me.  
WildePoohBear: How could I not be, my love?  
CDevil007: Ngk!   
WildePoohBear: I literally heard that! HAHA!!  
WildePoohBear: I am going to go to bed, I’m quite tired. Don’t forget to mail out your applications tomorrow morning. Even the Cal Arts one.  
CDevil007: I still don’t know why you want me to do it but ok. I will in the morning. I’ll see you for Math class.  
WildePoohBear: Of course. I miss you already.  
CDevil007: I miss you too. Maybe I’ll sneak into your room sometime this week ;-)  
WildePoohBear: I’ll keep the window open.  
WildePoohBear: I love you. Good night.  
CDevil007: I love you too Ezira, g’nite. XOXO

Ezira logged off and quickly brushed his teeth. After saying good night to Tracy, he walked into his bedroom. Just in case, he made sure his window was unlocked and cracked a tiny bit. After he crawled into bed and turned out the light, Ezira fell asleep almost immediately for the first time in his life… dreaming of honey eyes and elegant, graphite-smudged hands. 

\--------------------

Crowley woke up early Monday morning to do right and get the applications into the post but was woken up even earlier without his alarm clock. His parents must have started early with their fight as they were really at it at 5:30 in the morning. This fight was different from all the others. They usually stuck to shouting and stomping around the house but this morning it was worse, his mom threw something at his dad and when it had hit the wall, the whole house shook. He jumped up and got dressed quickly, grateful that he had left his book bag and applications in his car. He quietly opened his bedroom door and made it to Beez’s room without being noticed.

“Hey, we have to go.”  
“Yeah, no shit, Anthony. Dad’s not gonna let us out of the house with this fight.”

“Beez, I know! Look, we can get out from the window, my bag is in the car and we can go through the window in my room, but we have to get to my room ok?”

“Alright.” Beez looked scared. “Tony, this one’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is. We got this, ok? Dad won’t get you; I promise.” It was a promise Crowley always made and always kept. He had been on the beating end of his father’s wrath before for protecting his mother and his father had never gone for Beez, but that was always shaky ground as Beez got older. 

Crowley opened Beez’s door and listened for where their parents were; it sounded like they were still in the kitchen area with their mom screaming at their dad. “Ok, ready?” Crowley looked paler and older than his 18 years. Beez just nodded; they looked rather green to Crowley. Taking a deep breath to center himself, he had Beez go first, and they made it to Crowley’s room without an issue. They had been through this before; Once Beez made it to Crowley’s room they were to close the door and lock it. Then wait until they heard two wall knocks to know that Crowley was coming out of their room and sprinting to his. Beez heard the knocks and unlocked the door and cracked it. Crowley slipped in and locked his door. 

“Alright, good?” He looked Beez over and sure enough, they were ok. He grabbed his keys and wallet and threw Beez’s bag out the window. He then got Beez out and helped them slide quietly down the wall to the ground. Crowley maneuvered out next and took the hidden step stool to close his window so if anyone looked, they wouldn’t know that they climbed out.

Free from the house, they got in Crowley’s car, where he put it in neutral and let it roll out the driveway without turning it over. Once it was pointed in the correct direction, they were off. Crowley dropped Beez at Dagon’s and then took himself to the post office. He relaxed in the car listening to music that made him think of Ezira. A bit softer than his usual type and even a little poppy? I’m a damn lovesick fool, he cursed at himself. When 8 o’clock rolled around, he had all seven applications in hand and sent them off with his first ever prayer.

Crowley only missed his first class, art history, but Mrs. Taylor was his second class as well for his second art class, Intermittent oil painting. He was able to explain to Mrs. Taylor about going to the post office and she squealed while patting him hard on the arm.

Lunch rolled around and he found Ezira sitting at their usual table with his headphones in, he never wore his earphones in school. He took a second to try to figure out if he ought to sit across from Ezira like usual or next to him. He decided on next to him, he figured since they had sex that it’d be alright. He walked up to Ezira and rubbed his hand on Ezira’s shoulder and down his arm, shivering himself at the soft strength of Ezira. Ezira must have been in deep thought because he jumped at his touch.  
“Oh! Crowley! Hi my dear.” Ezira went to turn off his cd player quickly changing 10 different shades of red in the process. Crowley, knowing how to read Ezira better, snatched the cd player and headphone faster than Ezira could move them.

“Angel… What are you listening to?”

Ezira, who always have the words he needs, stuttered syllables. “Oh, um, well, I, uh, made a cd.”

“Ok! I want to hear.” Crowley put the headphones on and pressed play. A beautiful Celtic song played with a wonderful soprano singing. 

“And so it's there my homage's due,  
Clutched by the still of the night,  
And now I feel you move;  
Every breath is full.  
So it's there my homage's due,  
Clutched by the still of the night.  
Even the distance feels so near,  
All for the love of you.”

Crowley found his eyes misting in a moment of vulnerability, “Oh Angel.” And reached out to touch Ezira’s hand. Ezira, forgot his embarrassment and leaned in and kissed Crowley in the middle of their cafeteria, in the middle of their school, in the middle of the day. They didn’t hear the snickers around them from the other teens nor the sucking of teeth from the holier than thou bible thumpers. Crowley put his hand on Ezira’s cheek and breathed him in. The moment ended too quickly, and they parted, each smiling brilliantly at one another. Crowley gingerly removed the headphones and turned off the cd player. 

“So.” Crowley cleared his throat, “I got the applications sent out this morning after having to sneak Beez and I out of the house.”

“What? You had to sneak out of the house?” Ezira looked horrified. “Are you ok? Is Beez ok?”

Crowley wasn’t expecting that reaction. He was thinking maybe some laughter or an eye roll thinking his was being dramatic but not horrific. “We’re fine, Angel, no worries. The ‘rents were really fighting this morning and when that’s going down, we sneak out.”

“But, Crowley, I-“

“No Angel, it’s fine. Seriously.” The tone that Crowley used made Ezira pause. He knew that this line of conversation was over. He rested his hand on Crowley’s and smiled, barely nodding his head in recognition to change the subject. 

Ezira took out lunch and handed Crowley a bag of lunch as well. “Tracy insisted that you’d need something to eat today.”

“Huh, she was right. I didn’t get to eat breakfast.” Crowley tore into the bag and realized she had packed his favorite and what he was hankering for. Ezira handed him a soda to go with it as well. “Tell her I said thank you, Angel. Please?”

“Of course, my love.”

They ate in companionable silence for a bit, Ezira still slightly pink at the ears. 

“Oh! Angel! So, since the chaos is over for now on my side of things, where did you apply to, anyways?”

“Um, well.” Ezira took a deep breath, he wasn’t ready for this conversation. “Let’s see. I did Harvard, Cornell, Brown, Columbia, Dartmouth, Princeton, Yale, Penn, MIT, Stanford, Johns Hopkins, Vanderbilt, and Duke.”

“Holy shit.” Crowley looked at Ezira like he was a fucking God. “You’re, you’re serious??”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well I mean, you’re a fucking genius! I mean, doesn’t your SAT have to be at least 1400?”

“Yes?” Ezira just couldn’t see what the issue was, his SAT was only 1503, not genius status by any means.

“Yes? What was your SAT?”

“Uh,”

“Come on, I know you know what it was.”

“Uh, 1503.”

“1503!?” Crowley practically shouted at him. “You ARE a genius!” Crowley realized in that moment that Ezira was by far the smartest, sexiest, brilliant person he had ever known… and far too good for him.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I know there will be people brighter and better than me.”

“I doubt anyone is better and brighter than you, Angel.” Crowley said with adoration.

Ezira smiled at him. “Thanks, my love.” He gave Crowley a small kiss.

At the bell they headed out to their next class, again having to go opposite ways. Ezira stopped Crowley before turning and squeezed his hand to get his attention. “I’ll see you later. Right?” Ezira looked worried.

“Yeah, Angel, why wouldn’t you?” Crowley smiled at him, lifting Ezira’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Alright.” Ezira blushed and turned to walk to his class.

Unbeknownst to either Crowley or Ezira, Hastur, along with the rest of the Demons, was watching this new and frankly disturbing development unfold in front of him. This was gonna be fun to destroy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ezira's song is "The Mystic's Dream" by Loreena McKennitt. I've always found it to be incredibly romantic. 
> 
> The next chapter may be a little late, I have a heavy week ahead with life and work and I want to tell this story right. Or it might be on time because the Virgo that I am hates being late 😍😂


	9. Fucking Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History and Holidays. Ezira hates the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!!!
> 
> I know it's been a while!! I love you all and so sorry that it's been three weeks. Stuff happened and life got in the way with a bit of a writers block as a lovely frosting to the shit cake.
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than my usual... It was either this or a monster of a chapter and I wanted to get something out to you. 
> 
> I have to warn you, things are getting dark, mind the new tags: Violence, Bullying (not necessarily new but it's back) and Abusive Parents. 
> 
> Thank you to my betas!! @raechem and @cherubino
> 
> And a special shout out to @SarahMae1780 for just being awesome and a great friend ❤️💕

The Hasturs and The Fells had a long history. Actually, it was Marcus Hastur and Sandalphon Fell that did. They went to college together and became something similar to friends as their political and career goals were parallel to one another. It worked out for the best between them that they were not in the same career; otherwise they’d be enemies fighting for the same bone. They were each other’s best man for their respected weddings and each other’s son’s godfathers at their baptism. Mr. Fell couldn’t care less about the church or baptism, but it was something respected in his field and a pawn to use to show he was a “God-fearing, family man” during needed luncheons and weekend barbeques. Their wives, Gabby Fell and Uriel Hastur, also ran in the same circles of trophy and housewives and both had their own… house-tenders, for lack of a better word, to raise their sons. Neither had an idea of what their child was about, all they cared for was to keep their husbands looking good and numbing out any thought or emotion that would jeopardize their standing in their social circle of hell.

Because of the family relations, naturally, Luke and Ezira were going to be great friends and continue the alliance between the Fells and Hasturs. That was slashed and completely destroyed at a family get together when they were six years old. Young Ezira had no interest in sports. He couldn’t care less about teams and who was winning and what was the actual goal of the game played. The nanny/housekeeper/cook Madam Tracy, understood this almost clairvoyantly and read to him and played all kinds of music to help him along, mainly staying within the 80’s and older music because “it was better.” At six, Ezira was soft and a very dignified boy even for his young age, while Luke was a bull in a china shop.

A small deceit at the get-together changed the course of this supposedly “Best Friend Team”. The Hasturs, Fells, Ligurs, and the new family of the neighborhood, the Devices, were at the Fell Cottage (they had the best yard with a pool, jacuzzi, and dock to the lake) The Devices were a young couple with no children yet, but Agnes and Albert were enthusiastic about having a child at some point, and with Albert a new member of Fell’s agency, it was always a good idea to catch them young and pliable. While the “Misters” tried (in vain) to show off their wealth and bond to Albert and the “Missuses” tried to bond with Agnes over home design and cocktails, Ezira, Luke and Jacob were playing in the yard. Luke and Jacob were best friends. Both were active and busy, and just little demons getting into EVERYTHING but managing not to get caught. Ezira, on the other hand, was very quiet and introverted. As the three tried to play, Luke and Jacob worked together to go further and further away from the house and closer to the lake. Ezira tried to stay closer to the house; he knew he’d get in trouble for getting to the lake. When he finally said something, Luke told him that his father said it was ok. Well, since it was ok, they got to the pier without any problem.

One minute, Jacob and Luke were with him, the next, they were gone, with two spots in the water that rippled as if something or someone fell in. Ezira panicked and ran back to the house crying that he had lost the two other boys. The missing boys walked out of the house with a juice and plate of food snickering at the prank they pulled on the quiet boy. Ezira, upset from losing them and thinking that something happened to his “friends” was, at first, happy that they were ok. But then, he grew angry for being tricked. Not minding the food in their hands or the adults watching with interest, Ezira attacked the boys in one motion, knocking both to the ground and hitting whoever was within reach.

Ezira’s father pulled him from Jacob and Luke, surprised to see that Luke had a busted lip while Jacob had a good egg forming on his head. Ezira tried again to attack and that was the first true time he saw his father as the monster he was. Mr. Fell had his mother take him inside and up to his room while he remained out in the yard, trying to placate the other fathers. He stayed out there until everyone left that night, apologizing first for Ezira’s behavior and then being the butt of the jokes for the rest of the evening.

Perhaps, Ezira shouldn’t have been surprised when his father came to his room with a cold stare, waking him up from a deep sleep. “How DARE you embarrass me in front of our company?” Mr. Fell said in a deadly calm voice. He moved to close the bedroom door, leaving Mrs. Fell drunk in their bedroom, and showed Ezira exactly what happens when he is made a joke of… He never forgot.

Madam Tracy was so kind after that, she tended to his bruises and helped him as much as she could to keep him from the wrath of his father while making sure he knew there was someone he could count on and who loved him as he was. As he grew, she taught him the lessons parents, good parents, were supposed to teach their children. She did everything she could for him, but sometimes, there were just no way of completely protecting Ezira. So, she’d be there to tend to the wounds, physically and emotionally. By the time Ezira made a friend, a real friend, in Crowley, she was so happy for him, as happy as a mother would be and when she saw the friendship grow into something more between Ezira and Crowley, she prayed to the Gods that they would be ok and come out unscathed. She knew when the time came that Mr. Fell got wind of their friendship, it would be heartbreaking. She remained by Ezira’s side for as long as she possibly could.

\-----------------

Ezira hated the holidays. He hated having to pretend to be a happy family and go to functions and play the part of “the great son”. He just wanted to read his books, listen to his music and be with Crowley, no matter where he was. That didn’t matter though, because Father’s company party was coming up and then his mother’s sibling and his cousins were coming over and then they had to go to mass in their finest clothes and then… and then… It was exhausting and this year he wanted no part of it. He felt like he was in the wrong family, maybe he was switched at birth? That couldn’t be it though, he looked like his mother and had his father’s build. He used to wish every night he could see the stars for a different family… especially when he’d inadvertently made his Father angry. There was the year where he couldn’t sit comfortably for the whole two-week vacation and urinated blood after his father beat him for telling a company partner’s daughter during the company party about a book he read that was “unsavory” in polite circles. He didn’t think that “The Color Purple” was an “unsavory” book. It was a wonderful book and story about life and he even thought Steven Spielberg; a white, Jewish man, did an amazing job directing it despite being a coward about the lesbian theme in it. It was “unsavory” and his kidneys were bruised for a long time.

He was just so over it and the stress that Christmas brought. The bright side to things this year was the hope that next year, he could stay at whatever school he ended up and not go home for the holidays. Maybe he and Crowley could meet up and be just them together next year. Ezira smiled at the thought for a second before fixing his face at the party he was currently at with the Hasturs and Ligurs again. He stuffed a sigh into his chest while his father was recounting the latest takeover he had done at work, he had invited a new family this year, the Archers.

Luke and Jacob were thick as ever but there was an undercurrent of something that made Ezira’s skin crawl every time he caught them looking at him. Something wasn’t right, it was more than the pity jabs he usually got from them, this was serious. Ezira did what he always did with these feelings and made sure he was not alone for any part of the party, even if that meant sitting with his cousin Uriel and listening to her constant nasally whine of everywhere she’d rather be. He could agree, there were other places he’d rather be.

Gabriel Archer, Ezira’s father’s new employee’s son, was starting at Tadfield after the holiday and he was just so exhausting. He had something to say about everything, right down to the bowtie Ezira wore. “I could never pull off a bowtie, Ezira, but it looks good on you.” Gabriel smiled his perfectly straight teeth smile.

“Uh, thank you Gabriel. That’s ver-“

“I started this diet that our chef works with and it just melts the fat away!” Gabriel smoothed his tie, “I refuse to eat anything the chef didn’t make! She’s so amazing with the organic food. I refuse to sully my body with gross matter.”

“Oh, well you’re missing out on Madam Tra-“

“I don’t eat sweets or cookies, Ezira. They are gross matter.” Gabriel looked at Ezira’s plate like there were maggots on it. “Only fresh organic food.”

“Oh well, that’s very good.” Ezira took a sip of his eggnog (there wasn’t any cocoa) and ate a big piece of cookie to make Gabriel go away.

“You ought to try it Ezira, you are rather, um, soft around the middle. Too many cookies, I’d say.”

Ezira’s mouth was so full he just made a noncommittal noise and continued chewing, fighting the urge to not roll his eyes. Looking at the clock, he was grateful to know that they would be heading home soon, his Father had the impression of doting husband to play as his wife got tipsier by the minute.

Uriel stepped in as Gabriel started eating some carrots and talked about her recent trip to Italy and the shopping she did (which she’d rather be doing than talking to him by the way). Ezira was grateful though, he hadn’t had to interact with Luke or Jacob and he managed not to piss off his father. This was a successful holiday party.

His father started the goodbyes and Merry Christmases, even remembering the “token” Jewish partner with an almost believable “Happy Hanukah”. Ezira started walking to the trash bin and tended to his plate and cup and said goodbye to Uriel and then Gabriel with a cheeky “Don’t choke on the carrot.” He sighed on his way to the family car… he really hated the holidays.

\--------------

Finally at home and in his room, his father tended to his mother (she made herself vomit from all the empty calories she consumed) Ezira locked his door and turned on the computer, willing the universe to make Crowley be online. He missed his friend; he missed his boyfriend. They hadn’t seen one another since the holiday break started and only been online at the same time twice, both times being too brief for either of their liking. “You’ve got mail” rang and he checked his email; it was from Crowley. With a heavy sigh, he opened his email to only two words on the screen:

Turn around.

Ezira turned around in his computer chair and Crowley was on his bed with a wrapped gift and a lovely red lily. Ezira squealed sharply and jumped on the bed, showering Crowley with kisses all over his face and neck. There was a sharp knock on his door and they both froze.

“Yes?”

“Keep it down, Ezira, your mother is trying to sleep.”

“I’m sorry, Father, I will. Just got to a good part of the book.”

“Fine, goodnight.”

Ezira put his finger to Crowley’s lips to keep him quiet and moved silently to make sure his father was gone. He double checked the door to make sure it was locked and walked quietly back to the bed and hugged his boyfriend tightly.

“Hi, Crowley.”

“Hi, Angel.” Crowley leaned over and gave Ezira a tender kiss that lingered. “How are your holidays treating you?” he asked, once he pulled back.

“Oh much, much better now, my love. I’ve missed you.” Ezira held on to Crowley like he was going to disappear. “The company slash family slash brownnosing schmoozing thing of a party was awful. I’ve never heard someone whine so much like Uriel and then there’s this new pompous ass named Gabriel that just wouldn’t shut up. Unfortunately, he’s starting at Tadfield after the holidays, so I’ll have to be nice at school now” He nuzzled into Crowley’s neck and breathed him in, nothing was better than his own scent of pencils and cloves.

“You are nice to almost everyone Angel.”

“I have to be. Have you met my father?”

“But you’re kind of a bastard too,” Crowley smirked, “just enough to be worth knowing, of course.” He kissed the top of Ezira’s blonde curls. He kept his nose in Ezira’s hair, committing to memory his shampoo and softness. “Other than the party you went to, anything else happening during the holidays?”

Ezira hummed in his neck, then rolled over to his back, pulling Crowley to him so he could still whisper, “not really, family is coming over for Christmas Eve and Day, we have to go to mass, of course.” Ezira rolled his eyes. “then it’ll be Tracy and me for New Year’s. What about you? You up to anything?”

“Mmm, not really. The ‘rents aren’t doing great, so it’ll be just Beez and me. We’ll probably try to have Christmas morning together but then mom will start drinking and dad will probably go to the pub. New Year’s is going to be rough, I think Beez is going to stay with Dagon but I…” Crowley paused, he didn’t want to lie to Ezira but he didn’t want him to know he was planning to sleep in his car. “I don’t have plans yet.”

“Well, come here then. It’ll just be Tracy and me. She lets me have a little champagne at the countdown and then I go to bed. It’s quite dull.”

“I could go for dull, Angel. Tracy won’t mind?”

“Nah, I think she kinda has a crush on you.” Ezira kissed him lightly “Can’t say I blame her, you’re super-hot.” Crowley blushed at that and told him to shut up. “Seriously, she’s is fond of you, thinks you’re sweet.”

“Oh no… not sweet! I’m not sweet, Angel.” Crowley buries his head into Ezira’s neck and nipped the warm skin.

Ezira smiled and hummed, “I dare you to tell her that. She’ll take her flogger out and beat you with it.”

“Wot, Tracy has a flogger?!”

“Oh yes, she was a true Madam for a while there. I think she still is on her time away from here.”

“Oh, and how did you find this out, Angel?” Crowley continued to give light kisses and nips.

I came to her room a few years ago for something silly, I want to say a snack or to her a grade or something and all her things were on her bed. She said she was cleaning them for her weekend away.”

“Ah, uh huh, and she explained what they were?”

“Well, yes. She said it was better for me to know from her than for me to find out on my own or ask someone else.”

“I can so see her being a kinky Mistress.” Crowley smirks. “You go Madam. I have to make sure to wink at her next time I see her.”

“Oh lord.” Ezira chuckled. He carded his fingers into Crowley’s hair and pulled lightly to give a scorching kiss to Crowley’s soft lips. He moaned into kiss as it was deepened for a moment. Crowley pulled back and lightly chuckled then sighed.

“So, just in case I don’t see you before Christmas, I brought you a gift.”

Crowley sat up and handed Ezira the present. It was beautifully wrapped in tartan paper with a little tag saying “To: Angel, from: Devil” on it. Ezira tsked at Crowley but smiled at the drawn halo and tail. Ezira opened the present to find a crystal ball with a wooden stand for it and rolled up bit of thick paper. Unrolling it, it was a hand drawing of Ezira and Crowley dancing in masquerade clothes. At a closer look, it was a rendition of Sarah and Jareth from Labyrinth, Crowley in dark colors and Ezira in pale. “Oh Crowley, it’s beautiful.” Ezira lightly traced picture-Crowley’s jaw line.

“I was going to try to say the next line, ‘it’s a crystal, nothing more’ but you’re too beautiful to interrupt.” Crowley said, with a blush high on his cheeks.

Ezira carefully put the gift down on his nightstand and gave Crowley a tender kiss, “Thank you, my dearest. It’s amazing. Shh, I’ll be right back.” He got up quietly and went to his closet. He was practically completely in it when Crowley started to struggle to not laugh. when Ezira finally got out, Crowley couldn’t help but snicker, “Good to see you come out of the closet, Angel.”

“You think you’re so witty.” Ezira rolled his eyes and climbed back on the bed. He handed Crowley his gift, which was wrapped in Sunday cartoons. Crowley opened it as quietly as Ezira did his, it was a burnt CD with Ezira’s sad attempt at drawing. “I know you can’t really appreciate it now, but it is a mix of songs that make me think of you. I know it’s cheesy... Let these songs be the words I try to say?” He turned the sentence to a question because he knew he was really cheesy.

Crowley smiled his true, bright smile and hugged the CD. “I can’t wait to listen to it, Angel. Thank you.” He leaned and kissed Ezira. Ezira was secretly happy he didn’t open the cover as there was a bit of poetry he wrote for Crowley in there and really didn’t want him to read it in front of him. “I have to leave soon. Got to get back to the house.”

Ezira sighed. “I know. Can we cuddle just a little longer?” Ezira looked at him hopeful.

“Yeah, of course, Angel.” Crowley lay down on “his” side of the bed and Ezira cuddled into him. “I love you, Angel.”

“I love you, too.”

Ezira fell asleep on Crowley but he didn’t mind, he felt special that Ezira was so comfortable with him as to fall asleep. He managed to get out from under Ezira and covered him up before leaving through the window. He drew a little cartoon of his sleeping Angel, halo and all, and put it on his desk with a kiss. Walking home, he was excited about at least one overnight with Ezira.

\------------

Crowley made it back to the house without a problem, getting into the house was another issue; someone locked his window. Getting to Beez’s window, luckily it was unlocked, he managed to get in without making noise. Beez was waiting for him to close the window with a partially angry, partially scared. “Where you been Ant?”

“I went to is Ezira, we haven’t seen each other in a week and won’t for another.”

“Yeah, well, you left me here and they fought again. Dad hit Mom this time, Ant. I didn’t know what to do.” Beez was shaking and started to cry.

“Oh Beez, come here, I’m sorry.” He hugged them tight, as if trying to put pieces back together; Beez never cried.

“I’m sorry I locked your window, I needed you to be in here, Dad came in looking for you and I was able to play off that you fell asleep in my bed.” Beez squeezed him again. “Ant, that was a close call. Please don’t leave again like this. I can’t do it. You promised to protect me.”

“I won’t again. I am so sorry.” Crowley Rubbed their back in a calming soothing way. “Did you want me to stay in here tonight?” Beez nodded silently in their brother’s shoulder. “Alright, kid. Stash my shoes, I’ll go and get some jammies bottoms on and comics alright?

“I’m not a kid.”

“You will always be a kid to me.” His kissed the top of Beez head. “Be right back.”

“Kay.” Crowley quietly opened Beez’s door and made it to his room closing the door lightly. He turned on the computer for a quick moment and logged into AOL to write a quick email to Ezira, telling him he made it home, he loved him and couldn’t wait for New Years. He got his jammies and his and Beez’s favorite comics and made his way back to Beez’s room. He looked down the hall and into the living room where he saw broken glass and blood smeared on the side of the couch. He shivered and went back into Beez’s room where they got the bed ready for both of them and relaxed reading comics until Beez fell asleep. Crowley finally found sleep himself when he heard his mother crying while cleaning in the living room. Things were getting worse; he knew it was. He just didn’t know when everything would come to a head or how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's getting dark and it'll be getting darker as we go along. We'll be in the past for a while so hold on tight. As long as the writer's block is passed, it'll be back to one a week for the chapters.
> 
> I really suck at tags. If I missed some that really needs to be put on PLEASE let me know!
> 
> Twitter @stormiepassions
> 
> See you later!
> 
> P.S. IF you find yourself in a domestic violence situation, there's help:
> 
> US: https://www.thehotline.org/support-others/help-for-abusive-partners/  
>  1-800-799-7233
> 
> UK: https://www.nationaldahelpline.org.uk  
>  0808 2000 247
> 
> Much love. Stay safe.


	10. Pacing a Hole in the Carpet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present time: After the Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful people!!  
> I am trying to get back into my writing pattern now that the writer's block is gone for the most part.   
> We haven't visited our guys in the present for a while so here we are. 
> 
> Thank you my beautiful betas!!! @raechem and @cherubino
> 
> Warning this time around is simple: all about being an anxious fool 😊 Y'all pick who's the more foolish.

Right after the reunion (Present day)

“No, Ana, I didn’t tell him anything.” Ezira is pacing in his house after the reunion and having driven away from Crowley again. “How do you even start that conversation? ‘Crowley, I know it’s been a long time, but I am still madly in love with you and never forgot you and could never move on even though I tried a few times?’ How do you even START that!?”

“Ezira, honey, how about you say just that?” Anathema is extra patient with him tonight and it was irritating him more than being back in town is.

“I can’t! I have absolutely no right to even want to waltz back into his life after all this time. He’s still so beautiful, you know. He hides his eyes now though; which I guess I understand but he still smells the same… pencils and cloves. And his smile is the same even with the little lines on his face.”

“Ezira, look. I think you need to text him. Like now. Right now. You’re seeing him tomorrow right? He’s coming over?”

“Yes, so why do I need to text him?”

“You really are horrible at this shit, huh?” Ana gives a dramatic sigh with a grunt. “To tell him you were happy to see him and can’t wait for tomorrow and, if you want to be really obtuse, see if he remembers how to get to your place.”

“I’m sure he does –“

“and flirt a little. See if the chemistry is still there.”

“Really Ana! I’m not a teenager!”

“What does being a teenager have to do with anything?”

“I didn’t even flirt back then!”

“I’d bet my master’s degree he would say you were a liar.”

Ezira rolls his eyes and sighs. “I am not mature enough for this.” He walks himself to the kitchen and gets a bottle of wine and fills the glass a bit more than is respectable. 

“Well, I’m done playing into your pity party. Newt’s here and I am going to spend time with him. Text me tomorrow.”

“Ana, wait-“

“Good night!” she says in a sing-song voice and hangs up.

“Well, that was rude.” Ezira stares at his phone. He finally joined the 21st century and got an iPhone, he was told that it was user-friendly and for the most part, it was… until tonight where it decides to sit on the counter and mock him. Taking a proper sip of his wine, he chickens out again and calls Tracy.

“Hello, my dear. Ana texted me first and I am not supposed to talk to you.”

“Tracy, you’re really not going to talk to me?” Ezira knows he sounds pathetic, but he needs to pull the kid card. “I don’t know what I am doing.”

“Sweetie, this is Crowley. This is YOUR Crowley. If you can’t call him, then text. I know you know how to text; we just had a two-hour text two days ago about that student of yours who keeps taking his shoes off in class.”

Racing after the squirrel she set loose, he tries to change the subject, “His feet really stink, he stinks up the whole lecture hall.”

“Ezira Fell! That is not the point and you know it.”

“Tracy, I kn-“

“Look! We both know he came back for you. I have written proof!”

“Written proof? What do you mean?” Ezira did not know that, “he WROTE you!?”

“Of course, dear, how did you think he knew to come back? Beez gave me his email address.” Ezira is speechless. What the hell is going on? “Now, I am getting off the phone, Shadwell is being a naughty boy. Just text the poor ginger already before he falls asleep tonight. Right now, mister.”

“Okay, yes, fine.” Ezira starts pacing again and chewing on his lip. He couldn’t even get grossed out with the Shadwell comment. “Tracy?”

“Yes love?”

“What if he doesn’t answer?”

“Ezira, if he doesn’t, then he probably fell asleep and you’ll hear from him in the morning.”

“Alright. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. Good night.”

“Good night.” Ezira hangs up and feels… better. Tracy was right. It is his Crowley and if he didn’t answer he was most likely asleep; he always did love his sleep. That couldn’t have possibly changed over the course of twenty years. 

He is out of excuses except for the last one; he is just plain scared. Crowley owes nothing to him. He was friendly at the reunion and warm but didn’t take off his glasses. He had seemed to want to hear something from Ezira but didn’t prod and he did want to see him again and gave his cell to him. These are all good, positive things. So why is his heart racing so fast and his hands shaking so hard? Well, shit, he still loves him.

\-----------------------------

Crowley isn’t faring much better. Since getting back to the inn, he’s paced his penthouse so much he thinks he’s starting to wear the carpet out. Tracy did say that Ezira was happy to see him and wanted to see him more and she has never let him down in all the years he’s known her. Ezira was obviously happy to see him. Crowley chuckles to himself, remembering how Ezira practically fell into his arms in the bathroom at the restaurant. He could have kissed him right there but practiced self-control, he couldn’t really know if Ezira would want it. It was rather cute that Ezira had blatantly pointed out that he did not have a partner. Crowley hasn’t had one for a good six years himself, ever since he got Tracy’s email and if he is being honest with himself, he never had a real serious partner after Ezira. 

He sighs again and looks at his phone. He is not going to text Ezira first. Nope. Not gonna do it. Ezira made the choices back in 2001 that set everything in motion or rather, stopped everything and changed his course, he can make the choice to start things back up too. Starting to pace again, he entertains the thought of going to Ezira’s house and climbing to his window. That wouldn’t work, he wasn’t sleeping in his room anymore he had said. Plus, it would be creepy, right? They weren’t 18 anymore. 

He wishes he had someone to talk to. Beez was in bed, they are working a double tomorrow. Tracy said she had Shadwell tied up and he wasn’t a hundred percent sure if she was being literal or not. There aren’t any work friends to text to get his mind off Ezira and when he picks up his iPad to draw, all he can see is blue eyes and blonde hair. 

At this rate, he is going to have to pay damages to the damn inn for the carpet because of his pacing. Pulling up the message window from the one text he shared with Ezira’s number, he tries to will Ezira to text him… and holy fucking shit balls! There are the three dots of someone messaging… Ezira is messaging him!

Crowley runs his hand through his hair, effectively making it stand up on end. OK, ok, it’s all good he’s writing me, Crowley thinks to himself. He wants to hear from Ezira, but what if he is cancelling tomorrow and decided that he doesn’t want to see him? What if he says he lied and does have a partner and apologizes? What if… what if… what if… How many fucking “what if’s” could he possibly think of? 

And the dots stop. What the fuck? Crowley stares at his phone. No message. He starts to pace once more, repeating the mantra “Not gonna do it,” over and over, in time with his steps. He looks again and the dots return. He can’t seem to not look at his phone. He decides to take a quick shower to distract himself, at least he knows Ezira is trying to message him. Taking a deep breath, he takes his clothes off and finds his pajamas bottoms, undershirt and boxers, purposely walks into the bathroom without his phone, and took the best face-melting shower. 

Once out, pink and steaming, he picks up his phone and sees that FINALLY there is a message from Ezira waiting for him.

Angel: Hello, Crowley? Are you still awake? 

Of course, I’m still awake, Crowley thinks to himself, I’ve been watching three dots for a half hour, angel.

Crowley: Hiya Angel, yeah, I’m up. Just relaxing doodling  
Angel: Oh, wonderful! Anything good?  
Crowley: Nah, just doodles. Wanna see?  
Angel: Yes! Of course!

Crowley took a picture of the doodle he was working on, on a napkin and sent it. It was a cartoon of the reunion with characters of their classmates with a silly bander above them.

Angel: Oh, that’s too cute! Michael with her poufy hair and everything!  
Crowley: Did you have to say cute?  
Angel: Naturally   
Crowley: Ugh! Fine.   
Crowley: It was great seeing you Angel. I’ve missed you.

Ezira’s heart started to pound in his ears. He never thought that Crowley would think that, nevertheless, actually say it, if texting counted as saying something.

Angel: I’ve missed you too, Crowley. More than you would ever know. It’s funny, but no matter where I went all this time, something always made me think of you.

Crowley knows he started it but didn’t expect Ezira to run with the sentiment. He also knows he was done doodling for the rest of the night, so he moved to the bedroom to get himself comfortable on his usual side of the bed.

Crowley: Where did you go the last 20 years?  
Angel: It feels like everywhere really. I finished my bachelor’s and then started my master’s immediately afterwards. After that I took a few years to study and travel for my doctorate. I went to Israel, through most of Europe, Russia, Egypt, England and Scotland.  
Crowley: That must have been amazing, Angel. I don’t know why you would have thought of me.

Crowley is aware he’s fishing but he needs this. He needs to know it wasn’t just him over the years who couldn’t let go. He groans to himself and mentally kicks his own ass for sounding so needy. 

Angel: Well, I’d see something that would make me think of you. The art, the people, Venice, Eiffel Tower, and the Louvre. I wished you were with me everywhere I went.

Ezira bangs his head on the kitchen counter rather hard, he didn’t mean to say all this in text for Someone’s sake. This should be an in-person conversation. He is cursing himself for having that unrespectable glass of wine.

Crowley: I thought of you too, Angel. Actually, when I come over tomorrow, I’ll show you. One of the characters I designed for Armageddon was based on you.   
Angel: Oh, my goodness, really?  
Crowley: LOL yeah. The character’s name is Aziraphale. Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden.   
Angel: Seriously????  
Crowley: Yeah… I researched; he was really the guardian of the Eastern gate.  
Angel: Yes, I know, dear, Doctor of Religious Studies, remember?   
Crowley: LOL yeah. 

There’s a lull in the messages and if he knows Ezira, he may be dozing off. 

Crowley: I was entertaining the thought of climbing through your window like the good old days.  
Angel: You think you could still?   
Crowley: Absolutely! I may be old but not out of shape, I go rock climbing on a regular basis at home.  
Angel: Oh! Well. I’ll sleep in my old room then, my dear. The window is cracked. I’ll make you breakfast if you can actually get up and in.  
Crowley: Is that a dare, Ezira?  
Angel: You tell me, Crowley.

Crowley was getting tired until Ezira said that. Now, though, he’s wide awake and getting out of bed. Dammit, he is going to climb into that window now. Crowley takes his pajama bottoms off for a pair of jeans, keeps his undershirt on and throws an old Korn t-shirt on. 

Crowley: Let’s find out then, I’ll see you in 15 minutes.  
Angel: See you then, dear.

Crowley grabs his messenger bag (some things never change) with his pajama bottoms, toothbrush, wallet, iPad and pencil and heads out the door. Hopping in the Bentley, he has a moment where his adult brain catches up with his teenage heart. He is really going to climb Ezira’s house like the old days, right? He looks at himself in the rear-view mirror. Taking a deep breath, he looks himself in the eye and nods. Damn straight, he’s climbing the fucking house. He turns the key over and before driving to Ezira’s house, he texts Beez knowing they were asleep and will check their phone in the morning

Ant-Hole: Just in case you try coming to the room tomorrow, I am over at Ezira’s tonight. I’ll text you later. Have a good day at work.

He isn’t expecting a response but naturally, Beez does.

The Brat: Not even 24 hours, Ant! Good job! Now fuck off, I am going back to sleep.  
Ant-Hole: Alright. G’nite, kid.  
The Brat: Nite.

Crowley drives to Ezira’s house and reminds himself that he doesn’t have to hide; he parks next to Ezira’s Honda and quietly gets out of his car, throwing his bag over his shoulder. It feels like walking in a memory as he makes his way to the side of the house where Ezira’s window is. The house is quiet and dark with only a dim light in the window he is planning to go through. 

Evaluating the wall again as he did so many years ago, he finds the pattern he used back then to make his way up. The window is quieter than it was back then, most likely because the windows look to have been replaced recently. Crowley opens the window and slithers into the bedroom, silently placing his bag down next to the wall in its usual place. Some things never change, and muscle memory survives much longer than one would expect. He takes off his shoes and in the dim light, finally looks up to the bed to see Ezira lying on his usual side, keeping Crowley’s side free. Crowley’s eyes are uncovered, and he looks venerable and a tad lost, looking like he is stuck between the pass and present.

“I shouldn’t have even doubted you would be able to climb the house, my dear.” Ezira says softly. He is wearing his tartan pajamas and brushed his teeth extra to make sure his breath was fresh, just in case. “Would you like to lie down with me?” he asks, shyly.

Crowley nods, not trusting his voice to not squeak or break. He removes his bag and then his t shirt, keeping his vest on. He then (feeling brave in the near dark of the room) takes off his jeans and pulls his pajama bottoms out the bag and puts them on quickly. Ezira throws the blanket open for him and he slides in easily enough to his side. Shaking from his core, he lets go of a breath that he feels he’s been holding for twenty years. Crowley sobs, “Ezira, I- “

“Crowley, my love. I am so sorry. I’ve missed you so much. A piece of me has been missing these last twenty years.” He places a hand on Crowley’s bare arm and rubs it lightly. He moves his hand to Crowley’s neck, cradling his neck and jaw softly, looking into Crowley’s eyes, trying to ask something without saying it. 

“Angel” Crowley says softly, like a prayer, “Can I, could I, please kiss you?” 

Ezira, now not trusting his own voice, nods and whispers, “Yes, yes, please.” And they move together at the same time and kiss softly, both feeling the pieces that were missing fall back into place, fitting perfectly as if the time lost never happened. It remains chaste but loving, arms wrapping around one another. After who knows how much time, they fall asleep, at peace for the first time in twenty years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, It is rather shorter than usual but this is more of a visit. We still have quite a bit of past stuff to go through and of course, the biggest question of all... WHY?
> 
> Next week we're back in the past and it'll be a longer chapter!
> 
> I love you all!! XOXOX


	11. Coffee Tea and a Key..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after climbing through a window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> So! I suck ass.  
> I know I suck ass and I am so so sorry for having y'all wait as long as you did.  
> Life doing what life does and all that.A tiny terrorist, real life work, my health was shoddy for a second there and I was just plan blocked... My muse left me and I had nothing.  
> Excuses excuses... Nonetheless, I love you all and thank you for not leaving me ❤️
> 
> Thank you my beautiful betas!!! @raechem and @cherubino They didn't forget about me either and was ready to bleed commas and tense fixes without a qualm.

Crowley starts to wake up from one of the best night’s sleep he’s ever had to the point where he forgot where he was. As he wakes up, he feels a heavy arm around his middle and warmth on his back. Taking a deep breath in, he smells his teenage years… books and tea and Ezira… EZIRA! His eyes pop open wide and realizes he’s in Ezira’s old bedroom and, moving carefully, rolls over to see Ezira inches away from his face. He’s currently still asleep but holds onto Crowley just a little tighter with a small smile on his lips. Crowley breathes Ezira in and just looks. He was excited about seeing Ezira and just being in his company, but lying in bed with him, holding him in their cocoon of warmth and sunlight, it is a lot to take and quickly he feels a tear escape his eye. He missed him so much. Not just as a partner or lover, but his friend. Twenty years is a long time to miss someone, the ache never quite going away. He knows they need to talk. They need to get to know one another again. They need to talk about… how everything went pear shaped. That was just… a bad year or a great year, or just a fucking year of beginnings and endings and just everything.

“Crowley, I can hear you overthinking, my love.” Ezira’s eyes are still closed but he sounds more awake than he should. His eyes slowly open and Crowley can’t help but inhale a hitching breath. Ezira is just as beautiful, if not more so. He really did age well and the fine lines around his eyes were just a beautiful story of age. “You don’t know how much I have dreamt of waking to you again, my dear.” Ezira stays to his side of the bed, not sure as to where the boundaries lie. His fingers tap-danced to the middle of the bed, not touching Crowley. “I’m scared to move, to blink, because when I do, you’ll just be a dream.” Ezira’s eyes well with unshed tears. 

Crowley looks at Ezira with such devotion, he loses the words he had in his mind and just stares. He didn’t know what to say, he was home. His hand creeps of its own accord towards Ezira’s fingers, centimeters away from one another, Crowley whispers, “I know how much you dreamt, Angel. I dreamt of you too.” He watches his hand touch Ezira’s and continues to watch as if it weren’t his hand while hearing Ezira breathe in a sob. “I think we need to talk. Tracey filled me in um, after our senior prom. She’s the one who helped Beez and me, you know, got me to college.” Crowley feels rather than sees Ezira nod. “Did you know she was the one who ended up taking Beez after mom died? She made sure we had what we needed to thrive. Beez still lives at the cabin. Tracey and Shadwell gave it to them when they finished college.” 

Ezira nodded. He couldn’t tell Crowley that he bought the cabin from Tracey to give to Beez, he would if the opportunity ever came about, but that wasn’t the point. “Crowley. Tracey has been keeping me up to date with you and Beez for years.” At that moment, they finally look at one another, seeing both joy and pain in each other’s eyes. “Before we pop this beautiful bubble, can I give you a kiss?” Ezira asks quietly, expecting a no. Instead, Crowley leans to him and places a tender kiss on Ezira’s lips. They kiss softly in the moment that they’re in, relishing that they are together. Crowley pulls away, looking at Ezira in the eyes again, full of love. He rubs his thumb on Ezira’s cheekbone as Ezira takes a deep breath. “We do need to talk.”

Crowley nods and they both move to get out of bed. After using the bathroom and getting the sleep out their eyes, they move to the kitchen where Crowley automatically goes to the coffee maker and Ezira moves to the kettle to make his tea. It’s a quiet domestic moment of a morning routine that feels so natural, they both look up at one another at the same time and smile. 

“I have some orange cranberry muffins, my dear, and triple chocolate too if you’d like.” Ezira pulls out the containers for both. He grabs a cranberry orange muffin. 

“Mmm, I’ll take a chocolate then.” Crowley mumbles, “it’d be good with the coffee.”

Ezira takes a chocolate muffin and places it on a small plate for Crowley. Once their coffee and tea are ready, they silently sit at the kitchen table where they used to play Speed on and eat dinners with Tracy. Crowley plays with the paper of his muffin, trying to find the words to say what he needs to say. Ezira, though, beats him to it.

“Crowley, dear.” Ezira takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I believe we really do need to talk. I have some serious explaining to do.” He pulls the paper from his muffin and folds it neatly. “I’m not sure where to start but, I did want to ask, are you comfortable at the inn?”

Crowley does a double take. “Uhh, as comfortable as one could be at an inn, why do you ask?”

“Well, I was planning to be staying here for a week and you had said earlier you were planning to be here for a week as well. I have plenty of space here and you wouldn’t have to pay, of course.” Ezira picks up the paper of the muffin again and tries to smooth it out. “Would you like to stay here… with me?”

Crowley looks at Ezira for a moment and realizes he’s nervous; nervous of rejection maybe or nervous to be together again after so long. He catches Ezira’s eyes and places a hand on Ezira’s hand. “Yeah, I’d love to. I can take your room if you want… or uh.” He trails off not knowing how to finish that sentence.

“You can stay with me in the master bedroom if you’d like. You may want to have space at some point so any room here is your if you need it.” Ezira’s cheeks pink up a bit, realizing what he’s saying.

“Alright, Angel.” Crowley smiles, “I need to get my things from the inn and let Beez know where I’ll be if they decide to want to see me.” Crowley squeezes Ezira’s hand and moves away to take a sip of coffee. “They’re doing a barbeque at some point this week and wanted me to invite you.”

“Oh, I can’t impose of family time.”

“You’re not imposing if you’re invited. Tracy and Shadwell will be there too and apparently, Beez’s partner” Crowley frowns at the thought. “I have no idea who it is actually, Beez wouldn’t say.”

Ezira chokes on his tea with a startled laugh, “Really? You don’t know who Beez is with?”

“Um, no. What, do you?” Crowley’s frown deepens.

Ezira starts to giggle, “I, uh, well, that’s to say, I do.” He tries desparately to stop giggling. “It’s Gabriel.”

Crowley’s face goes blank. “No way!” once his brains start up again.

Ezira nods excitedly, “Oh, yes. It’s quite the scandal here.” He takes a sip of tea and places it down on the table. 

“I thought they were just fucking! Beez never said they were, like, couple together.” Crowley isn’t sure if he is pissed but he’s is definitely going to talk to Beez.

“Well, if you were to ask Gabriel, he’d gush all over you about how amazing Beez is.” Ezira pops the last bite of muffin in his mouth. “It’s quite cute.”

“Cute?” Crowley says astonishment all over his face.

“Mmhmm.” Ezira responses. 

Crowley sits with that tidbit of information for a moment and eats the last of his muffin and drinks the rest of his coffee. Taking his and Ezira’s plate, he rinses them and puts them in the dishwasher. “So, I am going to go back to the inn bathe and get checked out. Um, I’ll bring my stuff and stay the week then, yah?”

“Yes, my dear, that sounds wonderful. Here.” Ezira gets up and grabs the spare key for the cottage from the junk drawer. “Please feel free to come and go as you need. This is your home too.” Crowley stares at him for a second, his brain just stopped for a spell. When the pause is a tad longer than comfortable, Ezira tacks on, “for the week at any rate.”

“Ngk, okay.” Crowley runs upstairs to get dressed and gather his bag. He takes a moment to look in the bedroom once more. So many memories and moments. Perhaps, he thinks with a swell of hope, they can create some new ones. He gets downstairs and finds Ezira in his armchair with his laptop and a free cup of tea on the side table. “I’ll be back soon, Angel. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“No, dear boy, I’m good. We’re well stocked here. Take your time, love. I think we have some now.” Ezira smiles softly. He looks like he was about to reach out to Crowley but instead reaches for his tea. “I need to finish grading some horrific papers for my classes I’m afraid. Then, I’ll be all yours.”

“Ah, um, alright.” Crowley stands by Ezira for a moment looking like he’s trying to figure out the next step. He looks resolved when he leans down and places a sweet kiss on Ezira’s cheek. “Be back so then.” He whispers in Ezira’s ear. Ezira leans into Crowley’s warmth and hums. Crowley straightens up and leaves quietly.

However, once in the Bentley and his music on low, he bangs his hands on the steering wheel, “shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!!!! Okay. It’s ok. What the entire fuck just happened?” he yells at himself. He replays the whole night and morning and is about 90 percent sure that he was not hallucinating or drunk or high for that matter. He really did climb through Ezira’s window as an almost 40 year old man and slept cuddled with Ezira after twenty years of complete radio silence. With that said, he smiles. He hopes that they will finally get to talk about what happened and move forward. 

He makes it to the inn and back to his room. He repacks his bag, making sure he has all of his electronic cords and bases and his toiletries. In record time, he checks out of the inn and is promised a refund for the time he didn’t stay. Before heading back to Ezira’s he drives to Beez cabin for a talking to with his younger sibling. Fucking Gabriel Archer. You’ve got to be kidding.

As he gets closer to the cabin, he notices a car in the drive that is certainly not Beez. Crowley shakes his head and does a U turn. He doesn’t want to interrupt anything Beez might have going on and the idea of intruding on sexy time with fucking GABRIEL makes Crowley want to puke a little. He decides to… head back home where his angel is waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, good news is, is I have already started the next chapter, bad news is I'm not 100 percent sure when it is coming up. Maybe two weeks with the holiday around the corner (Thanksgiving). I'll be with my Mom and family and it'll be wonderful with amazingly awesome food.
> 
> New responsibilities at work has taken quick the life force out of me but I'm wading through. Thank you thank you for sticking with me! You don't know how much it means to me.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving to you all... I am thankful for you XOXOXOX


	12. Author's Note

Hi Everyone!

I wanted to write you all and say Thank you. Thank you for reading my stories and thank you for all the love you’ve given me. You don’t know how much this fandom has helped me, helped me through some high stressed and dark times. Your comments and kudos keep me going. 

On that note, I also need to say sorry. My muse left me with this story and as much as I try to drag them back, they just continue to slip through my fingers. Funnily enough, there are other muses at work here with me for other projects including The Undiscussed Discussion and another WIP that I haven’t posted yet. I’ve learned my lesson; I am not going to post anything until I know I am done. It’s not fair to you readers and it does something to me as an Italian woman who was raised Catholic… The guilt runs THICK! So, this is going to be on pause until the muse comes back. I know what I want to happen, I even have an outline, but the words don't come and I can't force it. Again, I’m sorry.

I love you all so much! You’re amazing and thank you for everything from the bottom of my heart.

XOXOX  
Stormie

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you all think! I am thinking the posting schedule will be Sundays.
> 
> Also I am on Tumblr and Twitter too both are @stormiepassions (I think that's how you use the handlers, right?)... I just don't know how to use them or anything LOL Come help a sister out!


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